"How the hell does the whole school know?" Sam hissed. It was Monday morning and the two of them were squeezed around the Hufflepuff table with Derrick and Abigail, eating toast. People were all over the great hall were whispering and stealing covert glances at Christina from behind copies of the Daily Prophet. "It's Monday! You only just found out Saturday!"

Christina shrugged. "The school just knows these things. I blame Fred and George." Ron had told the rest of his siblings the day before, then written home to his parents, who apparently had hosted Harry the previous two summers.

Sam nodded. "Fred and George for sure. Christina, I've got to go, I'm gonna be late for class. Double potions with Hufflepuff. Derrick, you need to get going too."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes! It's quite a walk to the dungeons. Christina, Abigail, you should go too. What do you have today?"

"Double defense with Slytherin." Abigail groaned. "C'mon." She picked up her bag and they hurried out of the great hall. "Christina, are you gonna be in the library with Harry again tonight?"

"Yeah."

"What on earth are you doing with him and his friends?"

Christina sighed. "They're trying to help out Hagrid, since his favorite hippogriff is on trial for attacking a student. I've met Hagrid a few times and he's nice, but going to so much trouble for one hippogriff seems like a lot."

"He asked you to help with that? I thought he'd try to bond with you by teaching you how to play quidditch or something."

"Yeah, well, the quidditch final is coming up soon so he doesn't have time. Wood's got them practicing every day, you've seen them."

"I know. I hope we win. That would be nice, after the quidditch year Gryffindor's had."

"Christina nodded. "We won against Ravenclaw, though. That was pretty cool. I just hope there's no dementors there."

"Well, they weren't real dementors at the Ravenclaw match, right? And Malfoy got detention for trying that."

"Yeah, I don't think—ow!" Christina whirled around to see that her least favorite person, Gretchen Whitlock from Slytherin, had shoved her from behind. "What was that for?"

"I heard what you did last Saturday. You really think you're Harry Potter's sister, huh?"

"I don't think I'm his sister, I know that I'm his sister."

"Well, let me tell you. You don't get preferential treatment now just because you share blood with scar boy."

"Scar boy?"

"Yeah. Someone like me's got to make sure you don't go around this school thinking you're special all of a sudden."

"I don't think I'm special—hey!" Gretchen had tried to push her again. "Stop that!"

"You aren't special, Evans, just because people worship the ground Harry Potter walks on."

"I said I didn't think I was special. And my last name's Potter, not Evans!"

"Right. Your mum was so brain damaged, she couldn't even remember her own last name!"

"Expeliarmus!" Christina had yelled the first spell she could think of. Gretchen's wand flew from her hand and skidded to a stop several feet down the corridor. "Oops." Christina said blithely. "You'll have to pick that up before class, won't you, Gretchen?"

"No fighting in the corridors!" Professor Lupin waded through the crowd of first-years. "Whitlock, five points from Slytherin for instigating. Potter, five points from Gryffindor for using magic against another student." He turned and unlocked the classroom. "Though it was a brilliant execution of the charm." He added under his breath.

"So you're a Potter now, on the class list and everything?" Abigail asked.

"Yeah. Professor McGonagall changed it yesterday."

"Nice." They both entered the classroom and sat down.

"Good morning everyone." Professor Lupin set his bag down. "I've had a busy weekend, so you'll have to excuse me for being rather scatter-brained today. However, I do have an exciting lesson planned for today's class. Now that you all have several months of magical education under your belts, I think it's time we tackled a devious creature that preys on unwitting people such as yourselves. No, no, this creature won't hurt you. It will merely scare you." Professor Lupin picked up a suitcase and set it on his desk. "In here is something called a boggart. Now, no one knows what a boggart looks like when it is by itself. When it sees you, it will take the shape of whatever scares you the most. Now, in preparation for our exercise today I invite you to take a few minutes and think about what that thing might be."

Christina closed her eyes and tried to think about what frightened her. Dementors, for sure. Large spiders, tall buildings, and the house elf who had practically jump-scared her at three in the morning when she'd fallen asleep in the common room. Sirius Black was certainly frightening too. Perhaps it was Sirius Black, then.

"Now, there is an incantation for this dastardly creature. You hold your wand out like this and say, 'ridikulus!'"

"Ridikulus!" The class chorused, holding out their wands.

"Excellent. Now, what really finishes a boggart is laughter." Professor Lupin passed, smiling slightly as he took in the confused expressions on their faces. "Paolo, what frightens you most in the world?"

"Uh . . . Argentinian poison puffers."s

"Ah yes. As I recall, you had a rather unfortunate experience with them on our first day, correct?"

"I was paralyzed for twelve hours!"

"I remember. Now, are you familiar with the worm on a string? It's a muggle phenomenon.

"Err, yes, but . . ."

"Excellent. When the boggart comes out, I want you to imagine the poison puffers as worms on a string. Hold your wand out as you do so and say the incantation." Professor Lupin moved to the desk and opened the suitcase. "Begin!"

Paolo turned pale as a swarm of bright pink poison puffers hovered in the air. "R-ridikulous! Ridikulous!" The poison puffers were all at once replaced with a gaggle of colorful fuzzy worms. The class laughed with delight.

"What really finishes a boggart is laughter!" Professor Lupin called over the noise. "Now, form a line. Everyone will get a turn!"

Christina waited her turn, watching as a spider turned to a squiggly octopus, a dementor turned into a dog on roller skates, and Sirius Black was forced into a set of lacy pantaloons. As Abigail stepped away Christina drew level with the boggart and waited with baited breath, expecting Sirius Black to rise from the suitcase.

But what came out of the suitcase was . . . herself. Christina gripped her wand tighter. "Hello? Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Its voice echoed hollowly. "Where am I from? Did I go to school here? What's my mother's name? I don't remember her face."

"Ri-ri-ridik—" the words died on Christina's lips.

"I had a family." The boggart whispered. "I know I did. But I just don't know . . ."

"Christina." Professor Lupin's voice was suddenly very loud.

"Ridikulous!" Christina flicked her wand and used her old idea, Sirius Black in a grass skirt and coconut bra. Except seeing it on herself wasn't nearly as funny. Still, the boggart stumbled backward in confusion and the class roared with laughter as the boggart attempted to rip the coconut bra off. Christina managed a weak smile and sat back down at her desk, where she slowly and carefully opened her bottle of water to stop her hands from shaking.

"Professor Lupin was looking at her funny, and she had a sinking feeling he was disappointed in her weak casting of the ridikulous charm. Her suspicions seemed to be confirmed when he called her up to his desk after class.

"So, Christina, I was able to see your mother yesterday."

"Oh?" So he hadn't been disappointed with her spellwork after all.

"She's having a hard time remembering what she did before leaving the wizarding world so we decided to go to St. Mungo's to see if the healers there could help her. St. Mungo's is the wizarding hospital."

"And? Can they help her?"

"They can. It turns out your mother had a severe concussion—no spell damage. Healer Smythe, one of the leading experts in restoring memory with magic, is working on her case. He's the same one who's working on Gilderoy Lockhart's case."

"Who?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart. Last year's defense professor. The idiot accidentally wiped his own memory and so far we haven't been able to do anything for him. But anyway, your mother may be in the hospital for the next week or two. Healer Smythe wants to keep her for observation while he works on a treatment for her."

"And he can do it, right?"

"He thinks he can."

"Ok."

"Are there any other questions I can answer for you, Christina? Or other support? I know Hogwarts doesn't really have a guidance counselor, and I'm not sure if Madam Pomfrey's up for the job. I'm here if you want to talk abut anything."

"Maybe later, like if you get more information from St. Mungo's, but I have to get to herbology. Thank you."

"Of course." Remus watched her go, sighing sadly. Her worst fear wasn't Voldemort or a dementor or even Sirius Black bursting into her room, like it had been for Andy Sommers. No, Christina's worst fear was ending up like her mother. He swallowed that twinge of survivor's guilt that always made itself felt and put away the suitcase with boggart. His next class was coming in already.

"Simmer down, simmer down. That means you, Malfoy." He looked around as the third years filed in. "Today we're going to work on the shield charm. I believe Professor Flitwick will cover this at some point in his curriculum, but dark things are stirring and a little extra practice will not hurt you." A student's whisper echoed across the room and Remus's sharp eyes fell on Draco Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy, do you have something you wish to share with the class?"

"No, Professor."

"Professor!" Hermione Granger's hand leapt into the air. "He's telling Goyle that Harry Potter's mother is a deadbeat who abandoned him!"

"Mr. Malfoy, please see me after class." Remus said, shaking his head. Assigned seats in the class had been a lot of trouble, but sitting Hermione near Malfoy had worked to keep him in line.

Remus hated having to keep Malfoy after class when he already had two other students he needed to talk to. As the student were packing up he called out, "Longbottom, I'll need to see you after class. You too, Potter. And don't think i've forgotten you, Malfoy." Harry's head jerked up, his face clearly showing that he was wondering what he'd done wrong this time. As the other students packed up and began leaving the room, Harry, Neville, and Draco approached his desk.

"Harry and Draco, if I could have you wait outside for a moment while I speak with Neville? Thank you. You're not in trouble, Neville, don't worry."

"Is it my last essay?" Neville asked. "I asked Hermione to help me, but she didn't have time."

"No, no, your essay was good. I saw marked improvement from your last one. No, I had something else I wanted to talk to you about. Over the weekend I had to go to St. Mungo's help out a friend, and was able to stop by and see your parents. I told them about what you were up to and they gave me this, I'm assuming to pass along to you." Remus passed Neville a bubble gum wrapper.

"Oh. Thanks, Professor."

"And please, Neville, if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open."

"Thanks."

Remus watched Nevile go, then went outside and fetched Malfoy. "Detention. Thursday night. My office."

"What for, Professor?" Malfoy drawled.

"For speaking out of turn in my class, gossiping, and speaking unkindly about a classmate's family. Another word out of you and it'll be double detention."

"Just wait until my father hears about this!" Malfoy called over his shoulder as he stalked out of the room.

As Malfoy left Harry came in, looking nervous. "What is it, Professor?"

"It's a personal matter. Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I was able to visit your mother this weekend."

"And? When can I see her?"

"Not just yet. She remembers very little before 1981. We've taken her to St. Mungo's, where Healer Smythe is working on her case." Seeing Harry's blank look he added, "Healer Smythe is the leading healer in Britain working on memory loss. He's also handling Professor Lockhart's case."

"But no one's been able to do anything for Lockhart!"

"Gilderoy Lockhart's memory loss was caused by spell damage, coming from a broken wand, which makes it very difficult to reverse. Your mother's memory loss appears to stem from a nasty concussion, which Healer Smythe is far more optimistic about working with."

The anger seemed to deflate out of Harry. "So when can I see her?"

"In a few weeks. Healer Smythe is working on a treatment for her, and wants her to undergo a psychological evaluation before seeing anyone. I know this is hard for you, but know that your mother is safe and in capable hands. In the meantime I suggest you focus on your studies."

"Yeah, speaking of, I'm gonna be late to transfiguration."

"I'll write you a note excusing you. Professor McGonagall is aware of your situation. And Harry, if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry took the note and hurried out.

. . . . .

Christina and Harry hadn't spent a lot of time together after having the conversation about being siblings. After all, they didn't really know each other, and weren't about to become best friends just like that. Christina supposed this was normal, after all, all the Weasley siblings had their own friend groups and didn't interact a whole lot outside of making faces at each other in the hallways. However, that all changed when Harry dragged her into Buckbeak's case.

"Why are we doing this again?" Christina asked. She and Harry and Hermione were sitting in the library pouring over books on magical creatures.

"Because Hagrid's hippogriff is being executed. I asked you to help and you said you would." said Harry.

"And why is the hippogriff being executed again?"

"Because it slashed Malfoy, because Malfoy was being a prat to it. Now the wizengamot's decided it deserves to be executed."

"The wizarding world is very weird about it." Hermione put in. "I think we all grew up in muggle environments where the term is "put down."

"Oh." Christina muttered. "Oh, that makes more sense. I knew someone in London whose dog had to be put down for biting someone."

"Don't tell Hagrid that." Harry muttered. "It'll just upset him again."

"It'll make him think of Fang, probably." Christina had only met Fang once, when he jumped up on her in the great hall and then sat at her feet drooling while she ate a biscuit.

"Fang wouldn't hurt a fly." said Hermione. "Hey, next time Hagrid invites us for tea we'll bring you along."

"And Ron too, right?" Christina liked seeing Ron and didn't like the way he and Hermione were arguing.

"Once he stops being a prat about Scabbers, yes."

Harry sighed. "Hermione, your pet ate his pet. The wound's still raw for him."

"He's being a complete prat! Crookshanks is a cat and does what cats do! Scabbers was old and sickly and was going to die soon anyways! Crookshanks put him out of his misery!"

Christina slammed her book shut. "I'm leaving if you two won't stop arguing. My friends are probably playing pick-up quidditch right now anyway."

"No, stay." said Harry.

"Well you stop provoking Hermione then! Besides, what are we really going to do for Buckbeak? If muggle dogs can get put down for biting people, then it seems like Buckbeak's going to be put down for attacking a student. And Lucius Malfoy seems like he has a lot of sway with the wizengamot."

"It's not really about whether we can make a real difference." said Hermione softly. "Hagrid's our friend, and it's about doing what we can to support him because friendships are important like that." She stopped as both Potters looked at her. "Fine. I'll invite Ron to our next work session."

Harry smiled. "Good. Merlin knows he has more free time than you do anyway."

"And then after that maybe some pick-up quidditch with the youngest house seeker in a century?" Christina asked.

"Maybe. Quidditch final's coming up fast. Oh ok, maybe after practice tonight."