AN: Hey...sorry for the longer-than-usual wait. I just couldn't get to this chapter till yesterday and today, unfortunately. Being an adult can be tiring and I low-key dislike my job SOOO much. It's draining.

Anyways, onto this one. This chapter is the Boggart chapter and it goes very off-cannon. But I'm also really proud of it. Just a heads up, I've re-arranged the classrooms so that this lesson happens later on in the year because...reasons. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 12: the one thing that I want, Hell bent

9th April 1983

Petunia had almost convinced herself that the girl was normal. It had all been going so well; once Petunia had convinced Vernon that the arrogant little cow Hannah Baker would think something was wrong, he'd come around to having the brat live with them.

She'd seen Hannah Baker poking her nose in things it didn't belong in. The girl had asked about the brat far too many times for Petunia's liking. Still, they looked after the brat and cared for it. The threat of Albus Dumbledore was too real for them not to. The brat slept in the small bedroom for now, and Petunia would feed her Dudley's leftovers so she didn't starve.

Everything was...not perfect but she was hiding it well. Until one day, when the brat was three years old, she ruined everything.

It was a Saturday. Vernon was home with them and Petunia had planned a wonderful meal for her family. Dudley was watching his cartoons happily and Vernon was with him in the living room. The dinner was going well; the pasta sauce she was making was coming along nicely and she had just tossed salad and dressed it with lemon and oil - her favourite.

When the bellows of her husband thundered through the house Petunia dropped the glass bowl she'd been holding. She barely felt the pieces of broken glass through her slippers as she rushed to the living room

"SHE MADE IT MOVE - SHE'S A FREAK!" her husband shouted.

When Petunia got to the room he was standing in front of his recliner, red faced, eye twitching and pointing squarely at the brat.

Petunia froze.

"SHE MADE IT MOVE! I WILL NOT HAVE THIS REPULSIVE STAIN LIVING IN MY HOUSE."

The brat made to move towards something that was in front of her, and it was like slow motion. As she moved towards the ratty little blanket she had been left in, Vernon choked on his spit and rushed towards her, his hand in front of him, and slapped her right in the chest.

He was so big - and she just went flying into the wall. There was a loud smack and then a cry. A loud shrill cry.

Petunia only watched her husband panting, red-faced and shocked. She could see it in his face, the shock of what he'd done. He retreated. Fell back into the corner and stared at the small, crying girl.

Petunia gulped. The girl's eyes opened and turned to look at her. The tears in them brought back memories of her sister - of Lily - and she began breathing heavier.

She never asked for this. She didn't want the guilt she was feeling right now or the panic over whether or not they would get in trouble about this. She never wanted the brat and it was its own damn fault that Vernon had reacted that way. He mostly ignored her when she behaved.

"What do we do?"

Petunia didn't know. The girl was still crying although it was stopping a little bit, she was self-soothing as it were. There didn't seem to be very much wrong with her physically - but then she couldn't really tell.

"I don't know," she said tentatively. "Is she hurt?"

"How the bloody hell should I know? You go and check!" Vernon shouted. He was still keeping his distance, scared of the freak. She was an unknown - his life had been perfectly fine until Petunia's freak of a sister had been introduced to him.

He had known that there was something wrong with her from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was too confident in herself. Her eyes were too green. A shade like that couldn't have been natural.

When Petunia had told him about them, that first time Vernon had come over for Christmas he had thought that she was having him on. But Petunia had broken down into tears and told him all about her. The golden child in the eyes of their parents. The freak.

Vernon knew then that he would take Petunia away from that ungodly house and have her be a staple of good society. And she had been so grateful for someone to finally, finally, take her side that she had come into his arms so easily.

And he had. They had gotten married, he moved them away from everything and they'd had Dudley. And then the Freaks had died and left their brat with them.

"She seems alright," Petunia said tentatively. "What are we going to do?"

Vernon thought hard. There was no way that little Freak was staying with Dudley in his room; he didn't know how it worked but if there was any chance that she could rub off on his son then Vernon would not have it.

His eyes shifted to the little cupboard Petunia kept supplies in and a plan formed. He turned to his wife. "Lock the freak in the bathroom and clean out this cupboard. She'll sleep in there from now on."

Petunia looked at the freak and then the cupboard. "She's so young."

"Think of Dudley," he said.

And she did.

Petunia then proceeded to pick the freak up and take her upstairs. The freak had the audacity to snuggle into Petunia and it spurred Vernon on all the more. He wouldn't have this in his house. He would beat the unnaturalness out of her. And if that didn't work then...

He grabbed his car keys and left the house, driving to the nearest store that would sell a mattress that would fit in that cupboard.

He'd not have it. Not if he could help it.

5th November 1993

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly after banging came from the wardrobe once again.

A few people had already jumped away from it in alarm and there were mutters and comments on the supposed 'bravery' of the Gryffindors. They glared at Halley's Housemates.

Professor Lupin went and stood next to it, presumably to give them some sense of security. "There's a Boggart in there."

Halley stiffened. He wouldn't. Surely he wasn't going to unleash a Boggart into a class of adolescent children who seemingly hated each other.

Those who knew what Boggarts were or those who had read ahead for their Defence reading all stiffened as well. Boggarts were nothing to sneeze at and this man had brought one into their classroom to…what? Because if the class was following the pattern of all his others, then they were going to have a demonstration and be required to use the spell they were learning.

They would have to face it.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."

Of course Dumbledore ok'd this lesson, Halley thought bitterly. From Parkinson's sniff, she could tell she was thinking the same thing.

"So what is a Boggart?" Lupin asked.

Like normal, Granger's hand sprung up in the air and waited to be called on, Predictably, she was. "It's a shape-shifter. One that takes the form of whatever frightens us the most," she said.

Halley tensed further.

"Well said." Lipin gave her a tired smile. "Because of this, nobody knows what a Boggart truly looks like. It's a phenomenon that has escaped Wizards and Witches for centuries. So as soon as I let it out, it will immediately become whatever each of us fears the most. However," Lupin paused, "we have an advantage. Can anyone think what it might be?"

There were a tentative few hands raised along with Granger's, but Professor Lupin only glanced around them for a moment before he looked at Halley. "Miss Potter?"

In all the classes she'd had with him since September, this was the first time he had spoken to her. He'd looked at her, given her work, corrected her essays but he'd never talked to her before. And while that shouldn't have been all that odd, she had a feeling it had been on purpose. That he had purposefully refused to talk to her.

So why was he talking to her now?

"We're in a large group. The Boggart will get confused," she said.

"Precisely," he said. "It's always better to deal with a Boggart when you have company; they're easily confused and overextend themselves. The end result is often more amusing than scary. Which brings me to its weakness; humour. Laughter.

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires a force of mind. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing."

This was not remotely amusing to Halley. She did not want to be in the class learning the spell. She didn't want to know what her biggest fear was. She sure as shit didn't want others to know what it was. That didn't seem to matter though, because they moved on from theory to the practical bit incredibly quickly.

She practised the spell with the rest of the class quietly and robotically and she watched Longbottom's demonstration. And then they were asked to form a line.

"Potter?" Pansy hissed from behind her. "Is your Boggart going to be a problem?"

Halley didn't answer. She couldn't. One by one the class lined up to take their turns, and with each person, it got closer and closer to Halley's.

One of the Patil twins' was a snake. Halley faintly recognised the fact that she couldn't understand the snake. Did that mean the thing was only based on an idea or an image? The Patil twin turned it into a clown.

Finnegan was scared of leprechauns. He turned it into a tap-dancing flamingo.

Davis' was her peers shunning her. She made everyone fall into mud that had appeared out of nowhere and they came out slimy and unkempt. Some of them were even crying.

Crabbe's seemed to be a Goblin telling him he had no more money. The Goblin then started burping uncontrollably, sprouting cupcakes every time it did.

Malfoy's became a woman who had to be his mother saying she was disappointed in him. The spell turned her into Longbottom bumbling around like a buffoon.

Goyle's was water. A large pitch-black body of water just hanging there in the air. He wasn't able to do the spell and Lupin came forward for him. The water turned into a miniature figure surfboarding around a flushing toilet.

Weasley's was over too quickly before anyone could really see. A shape that looked like a body - red hair - and Halley knew what it was. If not his sister, then someone else in his family dying and him not being able to do anything about it.

When he'd completed the spell, he walked to the back of the classroom next to Longbottom and Finnegan, all the while glaring at Halley. But she refused to look at him. It was her turn soon and she needed to concentrate.

Then it was Greengrass' turn and Halley felt a pulse of fear shoot through her. She was next.

She barely paid attention to what was happening. She just kept trying to figure out what her fear was. And then she was at the front of the line.

The boggart stayed in its previous form, swaying back and forth like it was assessing her. Halley felt her grip on her wand tighten and sweat dripping down her back underneath her school shirt. She just waited.

And then it changed.

A mirror with clawed feet and a golden frame took shape. It stood as tall as the blackboard at the front of the classroom and seemed to be tinted somewhat grey with an inscription carved into it, just like it had been when she'd last seen it in the unused classroom; the Mirror of Erised.

Halley stayed back waiting to see if anything would happen. A second passed, and then another. She could hear her peers muttering behind her.

"Go on Miss Potter, try the spell," Professor Lupin said.

Halley looked at him and he seemed so encouraging. It shouldn't have made a difference but something about it made her nod. She swallowed and took a step forward. One more. And one more. And then she could see herself in the mirror. This time her parents weren't there. It was only Halley with her wand raised, pointing at herself.

And then her reflection lowered its wand.

Halley took a step back on instinct, but it didn't do anything.

"The spell, Miss Potter," she heard again.

But the reflection tilted its head. It started twirling its wand around its fingers, and then it smiled. It was a smile she had never seen before on her face, but she recognised it. The sharpness, the fearlessness. The delight. It was Riddle's smile.

And then the reflection, still twiddling its wand, turned to the side and Halley saw a pile of dead bodies. Vernon. Petunia. Dudley. Malfoy. Weasley. Davis. Dumbledore.

All of them were lying there, some bloody and some like they were sleeping.

Halley knew. She knew exactly what had happened to all of them, and who had done it. And it wasn't Riddle or Voldemort or anything else. It was her.

The reflection turned back, the smile still on her face, and pointed the wand at Halley - just like she was pointing at it - and then she grinned.

Her mouth opened and she mouthed the words. And then the green light shot forward.

Halley screamed and ducked just in time for Professor Lupin to run in front of the mirror. And then it turned into something circular, like glass. "Ridikkulus!" As he shouted the spell, the orb turned into a balloon.

He turned to look at Halley, cowering on the floor. "Halley -"

"Freaky."

That word snapped her out of it. She was in a classroom with people who had seen everything. And there were tears streaming down her face. And she couldn't let them watch her in silence!

She scrambled to her feet and ran. Out of the castle, ignoring the sounds of whoever was calling after her. Ignoring the portraits tutting about her running in the halls.

It was November. The air was cold and damp and the grass was wet. She slipped multiple times as she ran but she kept running until she was at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

She tripped over something and landed in the mud. She couldn't stand. Instead, Halley just sat on the patch somewhere between mud, grass and forest floor and just stared blankly at the towering trees behind her.

She couldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. But she felt numb.

It was the same numbness she forced herself to feel at the Dursleys when the presence of emotion was too much. It was almost the same numbness Riddle had inflicted on her but this one didn't have the subduing calm attached to it.

Good.

The numbness kept some of the fear away, but it also let her think. Let her process. She picked herself up.

The image in the mirror wasn't what she had thought it was and that had terrified her. Because it was her. It was her going too far to do what she had to.

She didn't want to kill anyone. Not even the Dursleys. Not really. She wished they died an unpleasant death - she'd fantasised about it in the middle of the night when it would have been so easy to do - but she didn't want to do it. Not by her hand.

But what if she did? An insidious voice asked.

It was hard to separate the Boggart from the mirror. Somewhere along the line she had melded the two of them together and all she saw was the mirror that showed you what you most desired.

But the Boggart showed you your greatest fear. Halley's greatest fear.

She shivered, feeling the damp and the wet seep into her socks through her slightly too small Mary-Janes. She felt the cold seep into her bones.

Halley had forgotten it was November. She'd forgotten that it could get so cold. She shivered again and stood up. She couldn't just stay there and freeze herself into a cold.

Somewhere behind her, Halley heard something that sounded like her name on the wind. She turned around instinctually but saw nothing.

She was feeling colder though. And sad. And scared and -

With dread, Halley realised what was happening. She turned back in time to see a hooded shadow gliding towards her. Its long-decaying, bony fingers reaching out to her.

It started gaining speed, coming towards her quicker and quicker and Halley stepped back: One. Two. Three.

Her breath heaved in her chest.

It felt like she couldn't run. What was the point anyway? She was sure it would catch up and she didn't know how to face it.

Maybe it was better this way. If she died now she wouldn't ever go too far.

It reached her. Its second hand met its first and then they were on her neck. They felt slimy and dusty. Long, strong and hard and the feel of them made Halley sick to her stomach.

They forced her face upwards. Its hands, burning cold, pressed into her throat so that when she swallowed, her windpipe felt frozen. Their freezing grip wasn't enough to ignore the smell of its breath on her though. Rot and decay washed against her face; it was what she imagined death to smell like.

Halley wanted to scream but she couldn't. She wanted to fight but the thing was strangling her now.

Sounds of a scream. Flashes of green. A cold smile.

She couldn't place what was happening. Not really. It felt like she was losing time - not time. But losing something. Some piece of herself, small and important.

Halley was weak and cold and dying. She was going to die at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and no-one would know.

The Girl Who Lived wouldn't go out in a blaze or a bang. She'd die here, with a whimper.

She wished that wasn't how it ended but she'd never gotten what she wished for.

"What happened…"

"...Almost kissed…lucky…."

"How long will...her soul? Her magic…"

"...anything like this…lucky...alive…"

" - my fault!"

"Will she be alright…"

"...stable for now…"

"Black in the castle -"

"- was he looking for Halley?"

"...she's lucky…"

" - not luck Albus!"

"...Greengrass…just recuperating."

"Wake up Potter!"

"You should let her…"

"I think she's gaining consci…"

"The spells show she's making improvements."

"...much more can she take Albus?"

"She must persevere for the greater good."

Halley came into consciousness quicker than it took for her eyes to open; it was a weird feeling. She knew she was in the Infirmary because she recognised the sterilised sheets and the smell of Madame Pomfrey's perfume. It wasn't strong, but the woman never seemed to leave and so it had permeated the whole room layer by layer until Halley was sure it was in the curtains and the sheets.

She knew someone was next to her because she could feel a hand not her own on the side of the mattress and could hear someone mumbling to themselves - or maybe they were talking. It was too difficult to understand.

And Halley remembered what had happened to bring her there.

The time it had taken to categorise and understand everything had given her eyes enough of a chance to catch up with her brain, and she blinked them open. She was met with a bright light that made her immediately want to shut her eyes again and she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Halley?" She heard the rough voice of a man and she took her hands away from her face.

She had not expected the person to be sitting at the edge of her bed to be Professor Lupin. What was he doing there?

"Poppy, she's awake!" he called out.

Why was he on a first name basis with - well she supposed it wasn't that odd. They were both colleagues at Hogwarts and if Lupin went to school there as well then it was likely he knew the Madame from his own time.

"I'm well aware of that, Remus," the Madame replied. Halley looked to her left and saw the woman come along with her wand in one hand and chocolate in the other. "Miss Potter. Eat this."

Madame Pomfrey was decidedly more abrupt this time, though Halley suspected it was because she'd been in the Infirmary twice in as many weeks. The Madame was a lot nicer to her patrons when they didn't make a habit of being in danger.

She thrust the chocolate into Halley's face and she took it without a fuss. She still felt cold and tired, but at least she wasn't dead.

Halley sat up in the bed and bit into a piece of the chocolate. Dark chocolate, the only type she could stand. Other kinds were too sweet; they coated her mouth in the sweetness and in the end, it would make her feel nauseous.

She gauged the Professor while she ate it. He looked worried for her. Scared maybe. "How did I get here?" she eventually asked after sipping some water.

"I found you," he said. "I suppose it's more accurate to say I followed you."

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

The Professor looked abashed. He had been holding a book, maybe that was the mumbling she'd heard, but he put the book down and looked at her properly.

She hated it when people did that. It always felt like it preceded something bad. Or some realisation. Or pity.

"I...I was worried about you. The Boggart - it wasn't like one I'd ever seen before. I didn't think it would…" he sighed and somehow looked even more tired than he had before. "When you ran, I let the class go early and followed you."

"But why?"

He looked at her again. "I suppose you want the truth, don't you?" he asked with a sad smile. "Your mum was the same."

She would not get hooked by that sentence. Halley narrowed her eyes and looked at him steadily. Eventually, he got off the chair and started pacing the length of her bed like he was a caged animal needing to shed his skin.

"I was a friend of your parents. Your father at first, but Lily and I had our moments. And when they married and had you, I was there drinking at the Leaky Cauldron with James." He said it all in a rush and Halley followed him, her eyes, not letting up. Not giving him a chance to stop.

"I thought...I thought I could help watch over you if I accepted a position here. Maybe get to know you a little better. But you were so different from them - from what I expected - and I didn't know how to approach you. So I didn't. And then I put you in danger."

He stopped pacing and he looked back at her. Then he sighed and collapsed back into the chair. Like a man who had given up.

Halley didn't feel pity. She felt disgust. What had happened to him that he was allowed to just...give up like that?

"I shouldn't have used the Boggart! I didn't think -" he cut himself off.

Halley agreed. He didn't know what was going on behind closed doors. He didn't know what people's worst fears were. Sure some would be childish, but that didn't mean they weren't damaging.

And for the people who had experienced more than the others...those fears could be crippling.

Why did everybody seem to think that just because they were thirteen, they didn't have anything to fear? Why would they try to protect them on one hand, baby them and expect so little, but then on the other force them into situations that they had no right to experience as children?

How was that fair?

How were these people entrusted with the safety of children when time and time again they were the ones that had put them all in danger?

"You can make it up to me by teaching me how to fight Dementors," Halley said. Lupin's head snapped up and he looked at her.

"That's a very difficult spell."

"I don't care. I can't keep being so vulnerable around them." So weak. "If you want to make it up to me, teach me the spell."

Lupin swallowed. "Alright," he said "We'll start after the Christmas holidays."

She was let go later that afternoon, but in the meantime, she'd found out that she'd been unconscious for two days. It was now Sunday and in the midst of all of her Dementor trouble and...other things...Sirius Black had somehow broken into Hogwarts and into Gryffindor Common Room, tore up the Fat Lady's portrait and had been standing over Ron Weasley's bed.

He had also somehow managed to escape without being caught by a teacher or a Dementor.

The teachers had made the call that everyone sleep in the Great Hall on Friday and Saturday night, but with Black nowhere to be found, they'd been allowed to return to their dorms.

"We're going to die of negligence," Parkinson said as she lay on her bed. Apparently, she had forgotten that one of them had already died of negligence and Halley had been there to see it.

"Pansy!" Greengrass hissed.

Parkinson winced and mumbled an apology to Halley. She waved it off.

They had tentatively asked her about her Boggart. Halley had in turn asked them what they had seen. It had been difficult from the angle they were at, and Halley had been standing in the way of it most of the time, but they had all seen her reflection act creepily. And they had all seen her reflection try to Avada Halley.

Halley bit her tongue hard in order to shut down the anger and embarrassment, but she didn't respond. They could know about what was going on around her but there was no way she was letting anyone know what was going on in her mind. It was the only place that was hers alone.

"What I want to know is what Black was doing in the Gryffindor Common Room. Halley's in Slytherin," Greengrass said.

Halley had been wondering that as well. If Black was truly after her to 'finish the job' then what was he playing at? "Houses run in families. Maybe he thought I'd be there."

"But in the boys' dorms?" Greengrass asked.

Parkinson hummed. "It's not like he's sane. If Azkaban didn't get him then surely the Black Madness did by now."

"Maybe. But that still doesn't make sense," Greengrass said, sighing loudly. It was the first time that Halley had ever heard her sigh like that though she doubted it would be the last.

"Do you think," Parkinson began slowly, "that this has something to do with….him?"

Halley hadn't told them Riddle's name; something in the Vow or his Imperious hadn't let her. It had coiled up around her, shrouding her in burning static as she was about to say it and she'd guessed that that was the warning. But she wondered if she could make up a name. It was getting confusing only using pronouns.

Greengrass shook her head. "It's difficult to know for sure but I highly doubt it. Black was The Dark Lord's right hand. It's so unlikely that Black would have stumbled across...this man. And why would he even need to convince Black to go after Halley after he made her Vow him?"

As confusing as the sentence was, Halley had to agree to the logic. Besides, they didn't know that Riddle was from 50 years ago. There wasn't much chance he knew the ins and outs of the second Wizarding War, he was still probably reeling from the first. And possibly WW2 as well if he was truly from a Muggle orphanage like he'd said.

"I suppose so," Parkinson said. "Morgana! This is hard!"

Maybe Halley should have apologised, but she couldn't find it in herself to do that. They had been so insistent, so they were now stuck with her.

"Has your father given you the books yet?" Halley asked Greengrass.

"No," she said with frustration. "It would trip the school wards. I'll have to read them over the holidays."

Halley groaned. That felt so far away and she wanted to know about them now! There was only so much that Third Years were trusted with, even in Parkinson and Greengrass' families.

"Why doesn't Potter just go with you, Daphne?" Parkinson asked.

Halley winced but Greengrass thought about it for a moment and then smiled a large smile.

"I think that's a good idea. I can write Father about it and ask him," she said excitedly.

"Is it really?" Halley asked. "A good idea, I mean."

Greengrass smirked and tucked a curly blonde strand behind her ear. "I think that it would do wonders for the family if Halley Potter stayed in our Manor," she said coyly.

AN: SO MUCH HAPPENING!

What did you think? I would love to hear your opinions on the Boggart, the alliance, Lupin - any and all of it!

The next chapter WILL be up in a couple of weeks time. I've already sent it to my betas. Also - I finished chapter 21 and am halfway through chapter 22 now! It's super odd being so far ahead and then coming back here. Have a good week, all :D