Book 3: Astoria Greengrass and the Legilimens of Hogwarts
Song rec: "Wolfman Agenda" by Shakey Graves
The Greengrasses had the notion that they were dressed casually, but that was something Rhiannon laughed about. They were relying on the stateliness of their house to make their outfits look more informal. Mrs Ciel-Greengrass wore a flowing wrap of coral, and Mr Greengrass wore a knit vest and something Rhiannon would have called "dress trousers" before she had met people who owned true dress trousers. Astoria's grandparents had both decided to wear "something from last season" and call it a day. Daphne was still upstairs, and nobody seemed particularly concerned if she was coming back or not. Astoria did not get ready like she had originally wanted.
Mr and Mrs Greengrass had only wanted to surprise Rhiannon, and that was why they would not tell her who the guest was. It made Rhiannon feel terrible about being angry all day; she hated when she knew she was wrong. Whilst she was thinking about whether or not she should act surprised for the Greengrasses' sake, the melodious sound of the doorbells rang all throughout the mansion.
"Oh — thank you," said a voice which Rhiannon had known to be both strong and brittle.
That day it was brittle.
"Mister Remus Lupin!" announced Prissy, one of the Greengrasses' house-elves, as she was struggling with two suitcases, one large, one small.
Everyone in the drawing room stood, and Prissy sent the bags away. Rhiannon thought all of these extra steps for receiving visitors were stupid. She could have opened the door herself. They could have skipped the formalities, the delays. Professor Lupin was spending the weekend at the estate, and Rhiannon did not want to waste a single second of it. Mrs Ciel-Greengrass kissed his cheeks because she was French. Mr Greengrass, the old couple, and Astoria all shook his hand because that was as well as they knew him. Rhiannon gave him a hug because nothing else would do.
"Rhiannon, Astoria, Professor Lupin is here to help you learn how to cast the Patronus Charm," informed Mr Greengrass. "I obtained home-schooling vouchers for you this weekend. You will be able to use magic in the house until the midnight which begins Monday, even if none of our magic is nearby enough to disguise yours."
He spoke as if it had been the easiest thing to do, as if the workers at the Ministry gave him anything he wanted. Minors' magic was so well-disguised at Quennell Park that Rhiannon guessed he had simply got the vouchers to keep up appearances.
Professor Lupin looked round the massive room curiously, and asked, "Am I teaching Daphne as well?"
"Daphne has not been feeling well today," Mr Greengrass covered. "It is very important to us that she learns the Patronus Charm, so perhaps she will be able to start tomorrow."
As the meal commenced, Rhiannon could tell how furious the younger Greengrass couple was that their eldest daughter refused to attend. It was in the way Mr Greengrass sugared his tea; it was in the way Mrs Ciel-Greengrass gripped her goblet of wine. But those were the only signs they showed. Their self-control made Rhiannon think of how nasty she tended to act whenever she felt slighted. Maybe she should not have bothered Astoria so much about going to the funeral — someone died, after all. However, the only way she was going to be able to let it go was if she refused to think about it. It would be easier to do once they were busy learning Patronuses with Professor Lupin.
"I am slightly ashamed, Mr Lupin, that I do not have it in me to cast a corporeal Patronus Charm. I can give the instructions, but they mean nothing if I myself cannot follow them," conversed Mrs Ciel-Greengrass, and the elder Greengrasses nodded heartily.
"We know of your success with teaching Harry Potter — he was very young, wasn't he? — and of course, we want nothing less than the best for these girls. Trying times we're in… Trying times…" said Mr Greengrass, not quite owning up to the fact that his Patronus had no animal form, either.
"Patronus Charms are exceedingly difficult to cast," Professor Lupin said the same, tired line he must have said a thousand times since learning the charm himself.
"Even those who can cast a corporeal Patronus in a controlled environment may find themselves compromised in the company of a dementor."
Astoria's parents exchanged a shivery look; they were second-guessing their trust that a man who looked so worn and ill could teach two teenagers a decent Patronus Charm.
"Well, I did not come here to disappoint anyone," Professor Lupin said lightly. "I do have strict orders from Professor Sinistra. I'm afraid, girls, that that means you will have to take what I teach you to school and continue practising."
"Not if we can cast one by Sunday," Rhiannon said.
After dinner, Prissy showed Professor Lupin to the ballroom, where Astoria and Rhiannon stood patiently whilst Professor Lupin began to absorb a better sense of the enormity of Quennell Park.
"When I asked for space…!" he muttered to himself, and then asked, "Is there any place to have a seat here, Miss Greengrass?"
"Accio chair," Rhiannon cast, and a comfy chair from the game room came soaring through the air. Rhiannon placed it by Professor Lupin as Astoria was pointing to the chairs that blended in along the wall in the ballroom — but those ones hurt your back. Rhiannon Summoned two more decent chairs.
"Ah," Professor Lupin said, settling his tired body into a chair that matched the décor of the ballroom hardly more than he did. "I suppose we should start with the incantation. It is 'Expecto Patronum.' Careful on the accents, as always."
He looked like he was expecting the girls to say the words they knew all too well. Rhiannon hated humouring people, but she said the incantation first, and Astoria awkwardly followed her lead.
"Sir?" Astoria then said, quite shyly.
"Yes?"
"How does one know if one cannot cast a Patronus Charm… no matter what?"
Professor Lupin smiled weakly, saying, "That is a great deal of pessimism coming from someone who has not even tried the charm yet. What makes you think you will never cast one? I hope I did not give you that idea by saying how difficult it is."
"Professor Sinistra cannot cast one, sir," Astoria said, avoiding her company's eyes.
Professor Lupin leaned back in his chair and contemplatively ran a finger over the grizzled bristles under his scarred nose. He remained there, perhaps thinking of some kinder way to tell Astoria that Professor Sinistra's lack of the skill was something of a given based on her life's traumas. Rhiannon knew that any answer he would come up with would not be kind on Astoria's emotions. Professor Sinistra was as much her hero as Professor Lupin was Rhiannon's.
"She once could," Professor Lupin said carefully, unsure of how much the girls knew of his former workmate. "It is not so much like riding a broom, though. Although you don't 'forget' how to cast a Patronus Charm, per se, your… your heart can forget how to allow you to cast one. A Patronus is created by pure happiness, from a very happy memory. The mind is a curious thing — the bad memories it holds are often more pungent than the good. As you can imagine, it is hardly fair that the Patronus Charm requires so much happiness when it's the only protection against a creature that eats your happiness away. I think going through a period of time when one cannot cast a Patronus Charm happens to many people. Fortunately, most people never need to cast one. To be on the safe side, though, it is always a good idea to learn the charm. I believe you will be able to cast one."
Yeah, Astoria's going to cast one long before me, Rhiannon thought. Her life's fine.
Probably the most traumatic things Astoria was lugging round her brains were Cedric Diggory's death and the things Rhiannon had told her about Jessica and Geoffrey, none of which had anything to do with Astoria herself.
"With that having been said…" Professor Lupin uttered.
He stood up, nodding at both girls so they knew to pay close attention, and drew his wand. He closed his eyes for a moment, heaved a sigh, and drew a minute circle in the air whilst saying the incantation. Immediately, a large, airy figure jumped forth before spinning round and presenting itself proudly, with its chest puffed and its snout pointed steadily. It was pale, translucent, and almost twinkling. It was a wolf, but it did not growl, nor strike, nor skulk round. It seemed much smaller and more inclined to a game of fetch than the last time Rhiannon had seen it. It walked, or maybe floated, gently past the girls before leaping out a closed window. Rhiannon felt so happy; the Patronus emitted so much positive energy.
"A dementor cannot harm anything that has no sadness in its being," Professor Lupin said cheerfully. "Although a Patronus may seem like nothing more than dementor bait, it actually repels dementors. It is said that they fear a force that is powerful enough to survive their appetites. That force is actually within you."
It was a little bit difficult for Rhiannon to hear the phrase 'survive their appetites' and much more difficult to believe that such a force was in her at all. She then wondered where her happiness from Professor Lupin's Patronus had gone.
"Shall we begin?"
To Rhiannon's surprise, Astoria raised her wand first. That wand had given her enough trouble with stupid things like Summoning Charms, and Rhiannon instantly wondered how the girl expected to have any luck with a Patronus Charm. That thought transposed — would Rhiannon's cheap, experimental wand refuse to channel a Patronus Charm as well?
With her eyes shut tight, Astoria said, "Expecto Patronum."
Not even the whisker of an animal shot out of Astoria's wand.
"See, I said it is very difficult. Only the strongest concentration on the happiest of memories will produce a Patronus," Professor Lupin said.
"Expecto Patronum!" said a different voice.
The trio looked to the archway to find Daphne. She looked disgruntled on the first try.
"When did you get here?" Astoria asked.
"Moments ago," answered Daphne. "I could hear you on the stairs. Everything in the ballroom echoes."
"Miss Greengrass, are you feeling better?" Professor Lupin asked politely.
Daphne huddled next to her little sister, expecting protection from the smaller girl. She had already voiced her opinion about werewolves within Rhiannon's earshot. Rhiannon had been having a better time when she thought Daphne would hide in her room all weekend. (Almost none of Daphne's opinions were very good ones).
"I am as well as I shall be," Daphne said priggishly.
"You've missed the demonstration," said her sister.
"I shall manage," Daphne said. "I had this class with him."
Rhiannon knew that Daphne merely did not want Professor Lupin in her presence again. If she paid the slightest attention to Astoria's ramblings about Astronomy, she would have known that Professor Lupin had already suffered through the transformation a few days prior and was not due to transform again until the very end of the month. But Daphne rarely gave Astoria the time of day.
"Very well," Professor Lupin said, rapidly catching on to the fact that Daphne still did not approve of him. "Rhiannon?"
Rhiannon closed her eyes and drew a deep breath to relax. A Patronus Charm would be easier to cast if Daphne was not around. Rhiannon estimated that one Daphne Greengrass was equal to about one-third of a dementor. She might have even been making Rhiannon's training more productive. Even with a long time to think about something happy to remember, Rhiannon had not done so. A real dementor wouldn't have given her this much time.
Rhiannon thought of the very first time her Muggle guitar worked with magic… how the sounds she had not heard from it since she had torn up the electrical had emitted from it with ease… She remembered talking it over with Hestia about forming a band… a crazy idea, but Hestia was on board from the start… Nobody had as fascinating a guitar as Rhiannon's, Hestia had said… Rhiannon hated being cocky, but that '62 Fender Jaguar was so much cooler than any 'home-grown' wizard could know…
"Expecto Patronum!"
A few wisps of matter drifted from her wand and then faded. That was what disappointment looked like.
"I thought of my Fender. What'd you think of?" she asked Astoria, trying to get an idea about what sorts of happy memories weren't quite happy enough.
"Oh, I thought of the time my parents allowed me to go to Hogwarts…" Astoria said.
"Well, Hogwarts wasn't what you'd hoped," Rhiannon laughed.
Maybe that was it. Rhiannon loved her guitar, and she loved the fact that she had a band. She even loved the members of her band. But the band still was not what Rhiannon had expected. Nothing in life was going to be perfect, but there were many things that could have been better. Pariah was one of them. Rhiannon was never sure if Astoria truly wanted to be in the band. She had the feeling that Flora was only in it because of Hestia and the guilty conscience for saying cruel things to Rhiannon when she first got the idea.
Then it's got to be something that ended up just the way I wanted it, Rhiannon noted.
"What did you remember, Daphne?" Astoria asked.
"That darling coat Pansy bought me for Christmas last year."
Astoria's expression hardened like fired clay.
"It is much easier to produce a Patronus from memories about people instead of things," Professor Lupin said, encouraging them to try again.
Rhiannon considered his words. Although the Fender was from P.R., the permission to go to Hogwarts was from Mr and Mrs Greengrass, and the coat was from somebody at least Daphne cared about, the focus of those memories was not the people themselves.
Rhiannon started to think of the time when Astoria invited her to stay at Quennell Park and when Rhiannon wrote her good riddance to Jessica. But she knew that memory would not make a Patronus; too many negative things had led up to it. She thought of the obvious — of Professor Lupin befriending her in her second year — but she was too afraid of the guilt she'd feel if memories involving him would fail her. So she thought of Astoria, but then she remembered Astoria letting her know that they were friends and nothing more. She was back to Hestia again. Brewing potions, doing homework, composing music… No, there weren't very many bad memories with Hestia, even though the girl was a bit temperamental… But which memory to choose? No Patronus was going to birth from a wandering mind.
"Expecto Patronum," Astoria said peacefully, but nothing happened. She looked to the floor.
Trying to beat her sister, Daphne stirred up some memory she barely reflected on and grumbled through the results. Rhiannon was busy thinking of the time that Hestia pulled a mischievous little pepper pot out of her sleeve. Hestia had sprinkled it on Pansy Parkinson's food, and voilà! Parkinson had antlers for a whole day.
"Nobody's made something like this before," Hestia had said intriguingly when they were safely hiding in the Astronomy library. "The calculations were exhausting… I wished I'd not dropped out of Arithmancy…"
Her legs had been swinging serenely as she did the thing that Astoria had always nagged at her for — sat atop a table.
"I didn't make an antidote," Hestia had giggled.
Whilst that memory was still clear, Rhiannon said "Expecto Patronum!", and the air was filled with a supple, fleece blanket of energy. Rhiannon twirled her free fingers round it and smiled gratefully at Professor Lupin. Neither Greengrass girl surpassed Rhiannon that evening.
"Do you suppose that the casting of a Patronus Charm, or the lack thereof, reflects how happy one's soul is?"
Astoria posed too deep a question for the morning hour. She was brushing her hair at the foot of Rhiannon's bed, and her talking was forcing Rhiannon to fight against the calming hug of her bedcovers.
"Astoria, it's not even light out yet, and you expect me to chat about the philosophy of a Patronus Charm…?"
"It was a simple question, really…" Astoria said, trailing into a yawn.
"Profe—" Rhiannon said, caught Astoria's yawn, then continued, "—ssor Lupin says it's mostly how happy something in your head can make you in the moment. I guess a sad person can make a Patronus. He made one, din'ee?"
"You would say he's not happy overall?"
"I'm saying he's probably got a lot on his plate with this You-Know-Who issue. He's close with Professor Dumbledore, so who knows what? Maybe the Order of the Phoenix is back in action. He told me he's been having rough times. The poor man can't get hired, Astoria. His body fights him each full moon and he sits there lapping up Wolfsbane from a dog's saucer. And he talks to me enough, so where do you think his actual friends are? He's hinted… you know… they're not with us no more. But he's the Patronus boffin."
Astoria did not look like she grasped it all, but it was her own fault for asking about this at six in the morning. Professor Lupin wanted to start early — he was a very early bird for a werewolf. Rhiannon's regret was setting in; she had taken the liberty to assure him that the morning hours agreed with her and the other girls. But Astoria and Daphne were nine o'clock girls, not "sunrise" girls, and Rhiannon typically woke close to lunch hour if given the choice.
All for dear Professor Lupin, Rhiannon thought, satirising herself as she waddled out of bed.
Dear Professor Lupin's frayed jumper was looking more and more like an inviting, old blanket to eyes that were so sleepy. Dimsie and Prissy had prepared an early breakfast that the girls munched on in slow-motion.
"A full stomach seems to help with the Patronus Charm," Professor Lupin mentioned. "Chocolate, is, of course, the best, but I oughtn't to have you starting off your day with sweets."
"If only," Rhiannon said, orange in hand.
"You don't get any of the vitamins and minerals you need from cakes and chocolates."
"You get calcium," Rhiannon noted. It was her key defence.
"You get a trivial amount of calcium," Professor Lupin said.
Rhiannon wiggled her eyebrows and added more cream to her tea, and Professor Lupin rolled his eyes above his smile.
"Do you remember our lesson on boggarts?" the professor asked Rhiannon whilst the Greengrass sisters strolled into the ballroom ahead of them.
Daphne caught the last word of Professor Lupin's question. She began speaking, though she thought she was whispering, about how she always hated the fact that some werewolf knew so many Hogwarts students' biggest weaknesses due to his boggart lesson. Rhiannon strained her senses to hear Astoria's response to her sister, which was a lecture about a transformed werewolf hardly having the faculties to remember such things when he is in so much distress, and something about how Daphne needed to "get over it."
"Don't mind them," Rhiannon said nervously.
Professor Lupin nodded calmly.
"Daphne is only driven by fear. Fear is more powerful than all of us, unless we can control our reaction to it. Now, do you recall the lesson on boggarts, Rhiannon?"
"Yeah. Third-years to fifth-years got to take one down, didn't they?"
"Whilst you merely had a 'bloody essay;' correct."
Rhiannon blushed at how gobby she had been to her teachers in the past.
"My goals for today," Professor Lupin distracted, "are to help you all produce incorporeal Patronuses and to thereafter have you each try to cast the same whilst in the presence of a boggart. Although a boggart is no dementor, one certainly does not enjoy its company. We can defeat the boggart with the appropriate spell once you all have mastered an incorporeal Patronus."
"That's the right idea!" Rhiannon said excitedly. "I never seen a boggart before, though. What do you reckon it'll be?"
Professor Lupin looked stumped about the fact that Rhiannon had asked him that question.
"I couldn't say, Rhiannon. Do you mean that you haven't any idea of what it would be? It's better to have at least a close guess before facing a boggart straight on…"
Oh, but she wanted him to guess it and to guess correctly. If she guessed herself and was correct, it would have no meaning.
"Of course, boggarts typically pose no danger, even if you are unprepared. Dealing with a boggart is a game of dealing with one's own perception of it. However, as they are solid beings, boggarts' larger forms can be quite hindering if they get the better of you. So, in your case, I suppose it is fortunate that we have so much space here."
He had guessed… He did know.
Astoria and Daphne were hardly in the mood to continue practising Patronus Charms after such a long day of mustering up nothing more than flimsy, coloured air. Rhiannon's Patronus had improved within that day, though. Though she had accepted that a corporeal Patronus was a long-term goal, she could quite easily make an incorporeal Patronus that acted as a barrier. Sadly, maintaining that form was tricky; a corporeal Patronus would be more independent and bear up without a constant stream of its caster's happiness. But Rhiannon was raring to go when it came to the boggart. She was confident that she could cast her wimpy Patronus but was slightly worried about Astoria, whose worst fear Rhiannon had no proper guess about. Maybe it'd be dead people — that was a very common boggart. Rhiannon wondered how a boggart would manifest itself if Astoria's worst fear was heights, which she knew Astoria hated. Or maybe Astoria's boggart would be amusing to those with her: Professor Sprout holding a bucket full of manure!
Daphne went first, since she had defeated a boggart before in Professor Lupin's D.A.D.A. class. Out of Professor Lupin's larger, more animated suitcase came a skinny, brunet wizard whom Rhiannon did not quite recognise.
"Oh, God!" Daphne exclaimed, scurrying to the wall where the others stood. "It's changed! My boggart's changed!"
"Keep your head, Daphne," Astoria responded, staring down the skinny wizard that was shrinking and crawling back into the suitcase. "…Try the Patronus Charm before we start casting the Riddikulus Charm. We don't want to waste a good boggart."
"A g-good boggart?" Daphne said with shivers in her throat.
"Crack on, will you?" Rhiannon said impatiently.
Affronted, Daphne marched back to the suitcase and charmed it back open. The same as before, out sauntered a skinny wizard who did hardly anything but stare at Daphne. It was weird having the form of a stranger in the room, especially one that seemed so plain and nonthreatening. Yet Daphne had shut her eyes and twisted her wand in the boggart's face.
"Expecto Patronum," she squeaked, but her heart was not in it because she knew the charm would not get rid of this mysterious man-boggart.
The boggart turned the pale face it wore toward Astoria, who glared at it as meanly as it glared at her. Daphne's eyes shot open, and she shook. Rhiannon got a much better look, and knew who the boggart was supposed to be. The Azkaban escapees were anybody's fear, really, and the Lestranges were the worst among those at large, but why had Daphne's fears centred on Rabastan Lestrange in particular?
"Riddi— aarrrgh," Daphne said, and shut her eyes again.
The boggart had raised its mimicked wand at Astoria.
"What's it doing? What's it gonna do?" Rhiannon asked Professor Lupin as she stepped in front of Astoria and drew her wand.
"It can't cast a wizard's spell," Professor Lupin said, "but it is about to say the only incantation that Miss Daphne associates with this individual."
"Expecto Patronum!" said Daphne again.
"Cru-ci-o!" said the boggart slimily.
Neither of them cast a spell of any sort, but Daphne started to scream and hold her ears, clearly hearing and imagining her sister being tortured.
"Cru-ci-o!" clucked the boggart, and Daphne crumbled to the floor, at once hallucinating about her own pain.
"I think you've done quite enough here, Rabastan," Professor Lupin said to the boggart, stepping between it and the girl. The boggart took the form of the full moon, hanging eerily silent on the ceiling. Professor Lupin had no problem with keeping it there. His worst fear would not change, but it made so little sense that a full moon would be indoors that it was extraordinarily easy to ignore. Some people were just lucky with boggarts that way.
Daphne lunged for Astoria, hugging her, nearly in tears.
"I didn't think it would change like that… Last time it was so embarrassing in class… It was just Father standing there ignoring me… But…"
"The last time was three years ago, Daphne," Astoria stated. "I think that you have some more logical fears now. Little things don't scare you as much now, do they?"
"Yes, but Lestrange was the last thing I expected, really… I thought maybe an Inferius… But I've been hearing so much about him — er… from the papers…"
Rhiannon stepped forward, and the moon fell to the ground like a dropped platter. A winding figure the colour of toxic green swelled larger and larger as the boggart swayed to and fro into its new body. The basilisk that had tried to make supper out of Rhiannon gave her its best hiss, twist, and glare. It didn't matter that Rhiannon had the skeleton of the creature tattooed on her back; it was still her worst fear that something out there could sniff her blood out and kill her in no time. But the boggart was a joke. Even as it came for her and she stepped sideways out of impulse, it was a joke. She and everyone else in the room would have already been dead if the real basilisk was there. Its stare was lethal to every living creature except the weasel, which Rhiannon expected her future Patronus to be. If it wasn't a weasel, it would probably be Dumbledore's phoenix, which had saved her life from basilisk venom. For the time being, though, Rhiannon cast her misty shield, making the boggart gape at it confusedly.
"Splendid, Rhiannon, splendid!" said Professor Lupin as he stepped in front of the monster and it flew back to the ceiling, casting a cold, white light across his face.
"I'd like to have another stab at it," Daphne said, not wanting to wait for her turn after Astoria.
Boggart Lestrange dropped down to the floor like a bug from the ceiling, nearly landing atop Daphne. It got in her face and went so far as to grab her right wrist, but Daphne wrenched it free and quickly concentrated on something that made her smile visibly from where Rhiannon was standing.
"Expecto Patronum!" Daphne said, and the misty magic sparkled in the air again.
"Very good!" said Professor Lupin, alarmingly proud of all his students. "Astoria?"
Everything about Astoria emanated that she was ready for the challenge, but as she walked toward the fake Death Eater and the other three stepped back to the wall, something creepy happened. The boggart vanished from sight.
"Did it die?" Rhiannon asked, knowing that Quennell Park had to be boggart-free and wondering where they could acquire another one.
"They don't die like that," said Daphne as though Rhiannon had asked the dumbest question.
Astoria was looking all over the room apprehensively. She looked at Rhiannon, frowned, and spun in a circle. Nobody, Astoria included, knew what the boggart had become. Rhiannon thought that if Astoria's big fear was something like the sudden scares in horror films, the boggart would come crashing toward Astoria at any minute. Perhaps it would even display its real appearance for the sake of the scare; Professor Crouch had told Rhiannon that they looked like troll foetuses.
The problem was that "any minute" came and went. Astoria, though clearly nervy, attempted a Patronus Charm. She might have had more luck if she knew what the boggart was, but still, no one had spotted it.
"You sure it didn't die?" Rhiannon asked Professor Lupin.
"It's very strange," he uttered. "But, no, it wouldn't have. You know they make a small commotion when they go. Typically, people have very concrete fears, but it is not unheard of to have strong fears of abstract concepts."
Astoria cast an aimless Patronus Charm. It worked as well as it was going to; a feathery cloud floated round Astoria. The others moved toward her since her assignment was done.
"Good job, Astoria," Rhiannon encouraged her, but Astoria looked at her as though the boggart was laying eggs on her face.
"Astoria?"
"Rhiannon?"
"Yeah?"
"Where's Rhiannon?" Astoria said, and to Rhiannon's shock, she raised her wand in her face.
"Er, Professor, I think something's up with Astoria…"
"I can tell," he said, and he was sweeping the room in search of the boggart as Astoria irrationally aimed her wand at him.
At once, and it seemed just in time for Astoria to start firing spells, Professor Lupin collided with the invisible mass that was the boggart, and his hair was swept sideways. He wrestled the hidden creature, started grabbing nothingness, and then seized the boggart once more. He fought with it all the way back to the suitcase. Astoria looked all over the room in a daze.
"Oh! You're really here!" she said in relief.
"We didn't go anywhere. You started to go mad, though!" Daphne exclaimed.
Professor Lupin had figured it out.
"She wasn't going mad at all. I believe your sister's biggest fear is the unknown. It must have looked like Rhiannon and I were imposters when the boggart was in her view."
"What was it, Astoria? Things being hidden from you?" Rhiannon asked, mentally blaming Astoria's parents.
"P-Perhaps," Astoria said, adding, "Everything I heard gave me the feeling that I was being lied to. There were footsteps everywhere. It was as though I saw you, but I didn't see the real you… You all looked wrong, and so pale… It was very frightening. I didn't know boggarts could alter your senses like that."
"No doubt, boggarts are not something you should encounter alone, Astoria. Who knows how long it could have harassed you if we hadn't been here!" Professor Lupin said with concern. "I've only seen boggarts manifest like that a few times before."
Astoria cleared her throat with refinement. "It looks like we all managed to complete this step."
All three girls walked out of the ballroom that evening feeling successful. Daphne's Patronus was about as solid as Rhiannon's was, and Astoria was getting better at casting something visible on the first try. Yet it dawned on Rhiannon that another day with Professor Lupin was over.
The Greengrasses were the church-going sort of folk, so for the third time in her life, Rhiannon trudged along with the family to the Wizarding-Jesus sort of parish down the lane. Like several Wizarding establishments, it was Unplottable, but unfortunately, Rhiannon's ex-girlfriend was no Muggle and found her way there without trouble. Asenath Greengrass had not attended church the previous Sunday, and Rhiannon had been hoping that it was not a place Asenath frequented.
"Is something wrong?" Professor Lupin asked Rhiannon.
Rhiannon shielded the morning sun from her eyes with her hand to look up at him. Was she really that upset over Asenath Greengrass that her mood visibly changed? She didn't like to think so. She had known all along that Asenath was no one to be upset over.
"Church is boring, is all," Rhiannon said. It wasn't like it was a lie.
"Well, now, we can't be rude," Professor Lupin said instructively, tapping Rhiannon on the shoulder to steer her into the old building. "They've kindly invited us to join them," he added a bit whimsically, still finding value in the mere fact that he was included. Rhiannon was finding "inclusion" hard to appreciate. She felt it was more of a "Don't stay in the house by yourself" and "Stay on the straight and narrow" sort of thing. And with only the back of Asenath facing her no matter where she walked, Rhiannon did not feel so included.
Astoria's father introduced Professor Lupin to his siblings. Asenath's dad, Faunus, took particular interest in the "fellow Gryffindor," and invited, or nearly commanded, the known werewolf to sit with his branch of the family. Still, Faunus Greengrass was far more wolfish than Professor Lupin and might have even had the notion (or the hope) that he could come to blows with the professor just to show off his virility.
Rhiannon scooted into the pew with the professor. Asenath was enough spaces down to continue to ignore Rhiannon. It was best that way. Throughout the sermon, Rhiannon was wondering how many more times she would have to come to church. It was then that she felt chilled; she remembered Astoria hinting that it might get to the point where all the Greengrasses would have to pack up and leave the country. Rich, powerful, and largely pureblood though they were, they were the targets of Death Eaters in a few more ways than Rhiannon was.
Only a few people in that little church were actually duff to a Death Eater. For instance, Professor Lupin, a half-blood werewolf, Rhiannon, a Muggle-born, and Renshaw Greengrass and Salomon Kippling, both Squibs, were as good as dead if the Death Eaters got to them. Rhiannon had gleaned that much from the creeps in her House. Most of the others though were considered "blood-traitors" to Death Eaters — filthy by association but biologically pure. It was gross to think of all those You-Know-Who sympathisers who were eyeing the Greengrasses more hungrily than ever as other old Wizarding families continued to shrink.
Rhiannon dropped off for a few moments, but it was restless, and it did not occupy as much time as she wished it had. Professor Lupin had nudged her ever so slightly to wake her, but he himself looked sleepy. So was the secret of so-called morning people: they napped a lot.
There was to be no sleeping on the last day Professor Lupin was at the estate. Rhiannon, Astoria, and Daphne were trying their best to turn out corporeal Patronuses all whilst the professor assured them that they should be happy with how far they had already progressed. The girls knew better than to sit idly congratulating themselves. Dementors were way up the food chain from boggarts, and in front of this tireless boggart, the girls could still only make mist.
"You ought to take a break every so often," Professor Lupin said. "Patronuses will only get more and more difficult to cast the more you exhaust yourselves. If you keel over from work when I leave, what will Mr and Mrs Greengrass have to say about me?"
"And what if we keel over from a dementor?" Daphne sassed, wriggling angrily as the Rabastan Lestrange boggart pulled her hair. "You insolent — er, the boggart, I mean!"
Professor Lupin was ignoring Daphne anyway. He was looking at the enormous clock in the room to see the time, not to admire its astonishing beauty.
"I'll tell you how we're coming along with these once we get back to school," Rhiannon said, understanding that the suitcases by the wall were soon to be transported.
"Well, Rhiannon," Professor Lupin sighed, "I'll simply have to assume you'll advance quickly."
"What d'you mean?" Rhiannon asked quickly. "What're you saying?"
"Game of draughts?" Professor Lupin suggested whilst the Greengrass sisters were distracted with their charm-casting.
Rhiannon and Professor Lupin were tying in the game when he finally decided to speak.
"Rhiannon… I have some important things coming up, so please do not write me."
Surely this was not rejection. This could not mean that Rhiannon had bothered him. How could she have with such intermittent contact? Or was he upset about the fact that Rhiannon viewed him so like a father? Rhiannon had to admit that it wasn't a standpoint that most took with teachers… It probably wasn't healthy or something… That was what he was going to say, wasn't it? But she had no decent parents, only role models like him! But he was going to say she needed to get beyond her dear old teacher, and then he was going to leave, and then he wasn't going to read her letters anymore…
"No, no… Don't cry. All that thinking, and I still worded that poorly. Here, look at me — settle down…"
Both his hands patted both her shoulders, and the green eyes beneath creased lids met hers. Professor Lupin had still not explained the meaning of his comments, but Rhiannon felt better to know that she was not untouchable to him, that she was not something to be turned away from when she cried.
"I have very important work to do, Rhiannon. You must trust me. I trust you enough to tell you that it is to help Professor Dumbledore."
"Y-You're not fighting Death Eaters, are you?" Rhiannon asked, horrified. "You gotta be careful, Professor!"
"I am not fighting anybody outright. You are the one who should be careful. I've given you highly classified information."
"I won't say a word. 'Sides, no one'll ask me but my friends why I'm not writing to you. What should I tell them?"
Professor Lupin's eyes wandered to the wall in deep thought.
"If it comes to it, that is, only if they ask, tell them that you have written me and that I am not replying. You must understand how crucial it is to keep this secret."
"I promise."
Rhiannon felt like an extremely significant part of the secret operation for one exciting moment, but it was only from the strict tone of Professor Lupin's hushed voice. She was merely an acquaintance who was told not to leak what little information she had been given. Well, she had kept secrets pretty well before for Professor Sinistra, and for Professor Lupin, Rhiannon's lips would be sealed with ten times the security. The quiet sound of the pieces clicking against the board was greatly overpowered by the Greengrass sisters' chanting of the Patronus Charm incantation. The tie soon slipped into Rhiannon's favour, but she recognised that her opponent was letting her win. She smiled.
"I oughtta have lost some five turns ago," Rhiannon estimated, poking at a space on the board, "when you were here."
"That you were astute enough to notice the turn means that you well deserve to win," Professor Lupin said cleanly.
"Ah, you sound like a Ravenclaw, Professor…"
"Mm, I think I might have been one had I not wished for Gryffindor."
Rhiannon made the winning move because it was the only one left to make. It meant nothing to win, but it meant everything to have been humoured.
"I probably shoulda wished for Gryffindor," Rhiannon reflected.
"No," said Professor Lupin, surprising Rhiannon. "You have very good friends in your House who look after you and care about you deeply. And what about your band? What about the fact that you have opened the doors to Slytherin for other Muggle-borns in the future?"
"You're right," admitted Rhiannon. "But I'm not so sure anymore that I'm really the first Muggle-born. Lots of Muggle last names have been in my House. Seems like everyone's just called me that for dramatics all along, 'cos I'm the first one they knew about."
"If you aren't the first Muggle-born Slytherin, you are the first one who is open about it, even if you had no choice but to be open. That is what matters: that you persevere. And I want to tell you something else as well. No creature — even that basilisk that attacked you — can tell what your 'blood status' is. Blood has A-B-O types, Rhiannon, not statuses. That basilisk attacked Muggle-borns because its commander, which, through very Dark magic, was You-Know-Who. He knew where to direct it. It attacked you by coincidence because you were alone in the corridor when it was searching for other prey."
It was unfair. Though it had been terribly upsetting to think that there was actually some sort of way to discern magical from Muggle blood, at least that thought had assured Rhiannon that there was no escape from the fate of the attack, from the fate of being Slytherin's Blot. But it had all been coincidence. Rhiannon did not want to believe it.
"No — surely somebody must have known I was Muggle-born. My last name's Clarke. I didn't bring my parents with me to Diagon Alley. I didn't know things I should've known about the Wizarding world. It's gotta be on some record that I'm Muggle-born…"
"Hogwarts keeps no record that says you are Muggle-born; the only indication might be that the Ministry has no records for your relatives, but the Ministry did not send the basilisk after anybody. Also, you said it yourself that the House of Slytherin has had Muggle surnames in it for a long time. And not bringing your parents meant nothing; the parents of Muggle-borns are welcome to go school shopping with their children. Lastly, no eleven- or twelve-year-old knows everything about the Wizarding world," Professor Lupin explained. "In fact, nobody knows everything about the Wizarding world," he added with a smile.
"How did you find out about the basilisk, Professor? How'd you know it was looking for someone else?" Rhiannon asked, a part of her hoping that his source was unreliable.
"I asked the headmaster about the attacks that took place the year before I taught there. He did a thorough investigation of the incident. Rhiannon, why are you upset? There is no animal out there that can single you out because of your lineage — only humans can be that cruel. That basilisk was being commanded by You-Know-Who, who was gathering information about other Muggle-borns."
"I'm upset it's my fault I was attacked!" Rhiannon said. "If I hadn't've been running away from Lockhart's room and dropped my things, I woulda been out of that corridor… I'd never have almost got killed or have everyone throw dirt at me on the grounds, or have everyone know!"
"It is absolutely not your fault!" Professor Lupin said, astounded. "The fault lies with the masters of that creature and the masters only. Salazar Slytherin kept the monster under the school because of his hatred of Muggle-borns, hoping to use it against them or hoping that someone else would. Someone else, You-Know-Who, did use it! Now, I don't want to hear you blame yourself anymore for this, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Rhiannon said.
He was already supposed to have left; she could feel it. But he had stayed there the extra ten minutes to help her through her problems. Rhiannon felt happy, grateful, and guilty as she and the professor walked back to the ballroom. Then the sadness set in as he told the sisters that he was leaving, wishing them luck. He walked in front of the form of Rabastan Lestrange, which morphed into that unforgettable sphere.
"Let's exterminate the boggart, now, shall we? Riddikulus," he said, and the moon severed into two pieces. A piece of it fell to the floor, leaving the remaining crescent floating.
Daphne stepped forward, and the broken moon again became Lestrange, now missing an ear.
"Riddikulus!"
Lestrange's teeth were falling out. Astoria ran to grab the boggart by the arm, so that when it became invisible, she knew where it was. Or, at least she had a good idea of where it was, but Rhiannon hardly thought that Astoria meant to prod it with her wand when she cast the Riddikulus Charm. Nothing amusing happened, but the boggart did change back to the moon when Professor Lupin took his second turn. That time, it became a Pygmy Puff.
Rhiannon stepped in front of it before Professor Lupin could stop her. The boggart was no longer the basilisk — it was a dementor! Rhiannon's at once felt weak and light-headed. It was not a real dementor in her presence, but it was a very talented actor. She was getting cold, hearing glass breaking, smelling the sour, smoky breath of Geoffrey Clarke…
Professor Lupin was leaving the school… Rhiannon was going back to Jessica. She was hungry, battered, tired, scared, and P.R.'s flat was so far from hers when it was nighttime…
Rhiannon's legs gave out. People were pushing her, but she was dead weight. She heard Professor Sinistra chanting the Patronus incantation in the Hospital Wing, the sound of Madam Pomfrey yelling at Rhiannon to step back… Professor Sinistra was chanting the incantation that Rhiannon needed to say…
"Expecto Patronus... no. Patronum. Expecto Patronum."
A brief moment occurred in which Rhiannon felt her body warm up, and she saw Professor Lupin's loose-soled shoes… There was a moon in the sky for but a second, but it became a dementor and followed Rhiannon because Rhiannon was more afraid. She was thrown into misery again, but misery had become a co-worker for her in recent years. It had become the thing that drove her forward in life.
"Expecto Patronum!" Rhiannon said. Wasn't good enough. She needed to think of something happy. Professor Lupin had let Rhiannon win a silly game of draughts, because that was what real parents did for real children when they were young. And he did this because he happened to know that Rhiannon never had the opportunity to be young.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The dark, draped figure was waddling backward, and Rhiannon wished that she had kept it in her mind that it had been a clever boggart all along. It wasn't the Patronus Charm she needed… how dazed she had been! She cast the Riddikulus Charm with vehemence, and the boggart exploded into smoke.
"How long was I out?" Rhiannon asked, feeling like it had been at least half an hour.
"Oh, half a minute," Astoria said with bated breath.
Rhiannon was nothing short of terrified knowing that a fake dementor put her through something so awful in less than a minute. She would never be able to cast a Patronus near a real dementor if she fell to pieces in front of a dementor-shaped boggart.
Then came applause from Professor Lupin. Astoria beamed, and Daphne didn't do anything differently, but looked quite surprised.
"What — nah, I didn't cast a real Patronus… did I?" Rhiannon asked, completely shocked.
"Well, I believe you sort of did," Astoria said gleefully, as though the Patronus's energy swelled in her heart. "The incorporeal form was sweeping round the boggart, and then suddenly—"
She spread out her arms expressively as no normal Astoria would do, then said, "A great, gleaming paw appeared in the mist and clawed right at the boggart! Oh, it was so exciting, Rhiannon! Well done! Well done!"
"Blimey, Astoria, I didn't cast the real thing…"
"No, but you are progressing extremely well. You've done a great job, and you should be very proud. All of you should be very proud," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.
Professor Lupin had to leave without time to say goodbye to Mr and Mrs Greengrass, an event that they would later complain about. Still, he did have time to say goodbye to his temporary students again. And he had time to share a silent laugh with Rhiannon when Daphne Greengrass thanked him.