As Strong As We Are United
Chapter 9 – Facing Our Fears
Buffy and Charlie lay in bed talking. "Well, that went better than I thought it would," commented Buffy.
"I didn't expect Harry to agree so easily to his friends continuing to fight," replied Charlie. "Not that they gave him any choice in the matter."
"And they seem to be okay with us training them to work more as a team," added Buffy. "Things are finally looking up."
Charlie turned to Buffy, propping himself up on his elbow. "Now that things are a little more settled here, I really do need to get back to Romania."
"I know," said Buffy sadly. "It's been nice having you around though."
Charlie smiled at her. "I was thinking of trying to get a job closer to home. There's a sanctuary for Common Welsh Greens not too far from Hogwarts. I've been thinking about looking into getting a job there. Ginny still has another year of school after this one, and it would be good for her to have a stable family member here – well, one who isn't Percy anyway." Charlie stroked Buffy's cheek. "I'd also be closer to you," he added, before leaning in to kiss her.
Buffy broke the kiss. "I'm sure they would be happy to have someone with your experience," she told Charlie.
Charlie laughed. "There are a lot of dragon tamers with much more experience than me. Hopefully, it'll work out. If not, maybe there's something else I can do in Britain."
"You'll find something," Buffy assured him. She leaned in and kissed him again.
****************
The next few days were relatively uneventful. Charlie returned to Romania the day after the Scoobies had confronted the teens. He promised to return for the weekend. Xander took Shannon's suggestion and removed the piece of wall that held the offending portrait of Mrs. Black. He then rebuilt the wall, now shrieking-portrait free.
The teens were all on speaking terms again. They spent most of their time discussing how to make everyone at Hogwarts believe that Harry had lost the support of his friends. They also debated at length what the Scoobies had in store for their training.
At the end of the week, Genevieve informed Buffy, Willow, Cat, and Wesley that she and Spike had found a boggart in an old wardrobe in the attic. "It's as good a time as any to start working with the kids," said Genevieve. The others agreed.
That evening Buffy called the teens to the attic. Genevieve stood in front of the wardrobe with her wand in her hand. Faith, who had insisted on being involved with all parts of the teens training, stood at the side of the room, talking quietly with Willow. Cat, Wesley, and Spike had declined to participate in this particular exercise.
Buffy addressed the teens. "This exercise will force each of you to face your worst fear."
"But it'll do even more than that," added Willow. "The better you know each other, the easier it'll be for you to work together as a team. Today you'll learn about each other's fears. Later on we'll do some other exercises."
"So how exactly are we going to face our fears?" asked Luna.
"Simple boggart," replied Genevieve. "Technically boggarts are easy to defeat, but that isn't really the point of this exercise. You're each going to take a turn stepping in front of this wardrobe, while everyone else stands back along that wall to watch. After the boggart takes form, I will force it back into the wardrobe. You'll then explain to the group what the boggart meant to you and why you think it chose the form it did. Then the next person will take his or her turn."
"Willow, Faith, and I have volunteered to go first. We don't want you guys to think that we're trying to put you on the spot," explained Buffy. Buffy stood in front of the wardrobe, while the teens moved to stand against the back wall with Willow and Faith. Cat opened the door of the wardrobe and stood back.
A mirror image of Buffy emerged from the wardrobe. It's eyes locked with the eyes of the real Buffy, and then its face changed. The boggart Buffy had the ridged brow, yellow eyes, and fangs of a vampire. The real Buffy immediately fell into a fighting stance, but before she could act, Genevieve stepped between Buffy and the boggart.
With a crack, the boggart changed into a glowing orb. It was similar to the image Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had seen, when Remus Lupin confronted a boggart, but this orb was brighter. Genevieve forced the boggart back into the wardrobe. She turned to face the group. "The sun," she stated simply. "I'm a bit paranoid about being burnt to ashes."
"Okay, so obviously my worst fear is being turned," said Buffy. "No offence," she added to Genevieve.
"None taken. When I was alive I don't know that being turned was my worst fear, but it was definitely in the top ten," replied Genevieve.
"I find it interesting that even after everything that's happened in the past five years, your worst nightmare hasn't changed," noted Willow.
"Since you're being Miss Insightful, Wills, why don't you go next," suggested Buffy.
Willow stepped up to the wardrobe. Just like Buffy's, Willow's boggart was an image of herself. The boggart Willow had black hair, and black pools filled its eyes. The boggart Willow raised its hands, energy crackling around them. The real Willow took a step back, as the boggart began to advance on her. "Riddikulus," said Genevieve. The boggart turned back into the glowing orb with a crack and was once again forced back into the wardrobe.
It took Willow several minutes to compose herself. "That was me with the dark magicks," she told the group. "That was how I looked, when I tried to end the world and again in the battle when I killed Kennedy." Willow took several deep breaths. "I've been working so hard this summer to regain control, but I always fear that I'm not strong enough."
"Willow is really powerful," explained Buffy. "But, unless someone is with her to help anchor her, she'll always hold back."
"In other words," said Willow, "don't count on me to work the big magicks in the middle of a battle. You never know what the consequences will be." The students silently nodded their understanding, all of them too shocked to say anything.
Faith stepped forward. "Me next – then you kids can have your turns."
Faith's boggart took the form of Robin, holding divorce papers. "I've never thought that I deserved to have a normal, happy life," she explained. "I'm afraid that one day Robin will realize that and leave."
"Does Robin know?" asked Willow.
Faith nodded. "He goes out of his way to show me that I deserve to be happy, but I don't think that fear will ever go away completely."
Genevieve addressed the students. "So, which of you would like to go first?" she asked.
"I want to go last," stated Ron matter-of-factly. "I'm not ready to see a giant spider just yet."
"Your biggest fear is spiders?" asked Draco incredulously.
Ron glared at the Slytherin. "If you must know, when I was four, Fred turned my teddy bear into a large spider. I've been afraid of them every since."
Draco shook his head. "But you've faced a three-headed dog, got knocked out by a giant chess set, went down into the Chamber of Secrets, been kidnapped by someone you thought was a psychotic murderer, and fought against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. After all that, how can your worst fear be a spider?" Ron shrugged.
"You know, Ron, our life's experiences do impact our fears," Genevieve explained. "You may not see a spider today."
Ron shook his head. "It'll be a spider. It always is. And, I'm still going last."
"I'll go first," said Harry. "Not like we don't know what I'm going to see." Genevieve opened the door to the wardrobe, and a dementor stepped out. Harry immediately heard the sounds of his parents dying to protect him, Voldemort's order to "kill the spare" that resulted in Cedric's death, and then Dumbledore telling him that his friends' families had been killed."
Without realizing he was doing it, Harry raised his wand. Focusing on the feeling he had when his friends told him that they would fight by his side no matter what, he spoke the incantation, "Expecto Patronum." The large silver stag erupted from his wand, causing the boggart to stumble backwards into the open wardrobe. Genevieve slammed the door closed.
"Wow," gasped Willow. "Someone needs to teach me how to conjure one of those."
"With dementors no longer under ministry control, I'm sure that the new DADA professor will be teaching the Patronus Charm to all of the older students," said Genevieve, smiling knowingly. "I can't imagine that the new professor would not allow you to join in the lesson."
Genevieve then turned her attention to Harry. "I think you should explain to your friends how the dementors affect you – what you experience."
Harry closed his eyes, refusing to look at anyone as he spoke. "I suppose I don't actually fear dementors as much as I fear my reaction to them. Professor Lupin once told me that the reason I have such a strong reaction to the dementors is because I have witnessed so many horrible things. When the dementors were at Hogwarts during third year, whenever I would get near one I would hear my parents voices – my dad telling my mum to take me and run, while he stayed to hold off Voldemort, then my mum saying, "No, not Harry," and Voldemort using the killing curse.
"When the dementors turned up in Little Whinging the summer before fifth year, I heard my parents die again. But that time, there was more. I remembered the moment that the portkey took Cedric and I to the graveyard. Voldemort ordered Wormtail to kill Cedric. This time, I heard all those things again, but also Professor Dumbledore telling us about everyone who died in the attacks on my birthday."
"I never realized," whispered Draco. "If I had, I wouldn't have given you such a hard time about passing out on the train third year."
Harry opened his eyes and stared at Draco. "Yes, you would have. You were an obnoxious little snot back then."
"Well, at least you don't think he's an obnoxious snot anymore," commented Shannon hopefully.
"No," replied Harry. "Now he's an obnoxious bigger snot. But I suppose it's better that his evil streak is directed at our enemies now instead of us." Dawn and Shannon shot Harry nasty looks, but Draco just shrugged. He had finally gotten to a place where he could care less what Potter thought of him.
"Draco," said Faith. "Why don't you go next?"
Draco stepped forward. Like Buffy's and Willow's, Draco's boggart emerged from the wardrobe in his image. The boggart Draco pulled up the sleeve of his robe, revealing the dark mark. The boggart threw its head back in silent laughter then slowly morphed into the image of Draco's father Lucius. The real Draco's eyes glowed with hatred. "I will not become my father," he spat.
After Genevieve forced the boggart back into the wardrobe, Ron spoke. "You know the way you would talk in school, we all used to think that you wanted to become your father."
"No," replied Draco with conviction. "Before I got mixed up with all of you, all I wanted was to finish school and get a job outside of England and away from my father. That's why my grades improved so much over the last couple of years. I figured that was my only chance to become my own person."
"You have become your own person," Dawn assured him.
"And you've proven that you're nothing like your father," added Ron.
"You did more than just run away," said Neville in a quiet voice. "You stood against him."
Draco smiled at the other teens. 'Who would've thought that a bunch of Gryffindors would make me feel better about myself,' he thought, taking his place against the back wall.
"Who wants to go next?" asked Buffy.
"I will," said Ginny, stepping forward. A dark-haired teenage boy in Hogwarts robes stepped out of the wardrobe. He stretched out his hand to Ginny. In it was a leather-bound book. "No," said Ginny loudly, though she stood her ground. Genevieve forced the boggart back into the wardrobe yet again.
"You're afraid of boys?" asked Luna. "You always seem to have so much confidence around them." Harry listened intently to what Ginny was about to say. He recognized who the boy was, having met him twice during second year.
Ginny shook her head. "That wasn't just any boy. That was Tom Riddle, the boy who grew up to become Voldemort." She turned to face the group. "I'm not afraid of Tom himself. I'm afraid of what he did to me. He controlled me – made me do horrible things that I never would have consciously done. What I'm afraid of is being used to hurt the people I care for."
"I'll go next," volunteered Luna, who had stepped forward. Her boggart took the form of the teens who were standing against the wall watching. The boggart teens pointed at Luna, laughing at her and mocking her. A single tear slid down Luna's cheek.
She turned back to the group. "I know I'm weird," she stated. "People have always made fun of me because I'm different. I never really had any friends until I met all of you. I guess I'm afraid that you'll all think I'm too weird to be your friend, and that you'll laugh at me like everyone else."
Ginny stepped forward and put her arm around Luna's shoulders. "Yes, you are a little weird sometimes, but it makes you interesting," Ginny assured her friend. "We like you for who you are. We wouldn't want you to change. Right?" she asked the rest of the group.
The group all nodded. Hermione was the only one to speak. "I know that I give you a hard time for the things you believe in with no proof," she said. "But I've always thought you were a good person, and that we are lucky to have you fighting by our side."
"Besides," added Dawn. "None of us here is exactly normal."
"Yeah, being normal is highly overrated," agreed Shannon.
Luna smiled at the other girls, as Ginny led her back to the group. Dawn and Shannon each gave Luna a hug. Hermione smiled at the younger girl, before volunteering to go next.
Hermione's boggart was the same as it had been in her third year – Professor McGonagall, holding a test paper with a large "D" for dreadful on it.
"You're afraid of McGonagall?" asked Neville, after the boggart had been shut away. "I always felt silly about being afraid of Snape, but at least he's mean."
"She isn't afraid of McGonagall," said Ron, who always felt that he had to defend Hermione. "She's afraid of failure, which is a perfectly legitimate fear."
"Says he-who-is-afraid-of-spiders," kidded Harry. Ron glared at his best friend.
"It's more than just fear of failure," said Hermione quietly. "Growing up, I didn't have any friends. People at my muggle school thought I was weird." Hermione looked meaningfully at Luna then continued. "When I found out that I'm a witch, I thought that I would finally be with people like me. We all know that I didn't start out with many friends at Hogwarts." She looked at Harry and Ron. "But eventually I found my place."
"I'm not afraid of failing an exam. I'm afraid that someone is going to tell me that I was never meant to be a witch – that I have to go back to the muggle world where I don't belong," Hermione admitted.
"And whenever I called you a mud. . .well you know. . . I reinforced your fear that you weren't meant to be at Hogwarts," said Draco with dawning comprehension.
Hermione nodded. "That's why that particular insult hurt so much. If you had called me a bitch all the time, I would've still hated you, but I would've just figured that it was your problem not mine."
"I'm sorry," whispered Draco. "I used to call you that all the time because I was ashamed that even though you were muggle-born you were better at magic than me." Harry stared at Draco incredulously. He had never before heard Malfoy apologize and mean it, let alone admit to his own failings.
"Forget it," said Hermione. "It's behind us."
"Well, I might as well go next," said Neville. "I think I may have gotten over my fear of Snape, especially since I actually scored an Exceeds Expectations in my potions O.W.L. and am not taking his class anymore."
Neville's boggart took the form of his parents, looking down at him, disappointment evident on their faces. "My grandmother always told me that I'm not as good as my father. I can't stand the idea that my parents would agree."
Ginny slid her arm through Neville's. "You're standing up against Voldemort. Your parents would be very proud of you." Everyone else agreed.
"Dawnie, why don't you go next," suggested Buffy.
Dawn stepped forward with trepidation. She had a pretty good idea of what her boggart would be, and she was not looking forward to explaining to her friends about being the key. So far, only Draco knew.
The boggart stepped out of the wardrobe looking just like Dawn. Suddenly two cuts appeared at its abdomen, and blood began to trickle down onto the floor. Where the blood fell, the floor seemed to disappear, replaced by a dull flickering light. "Enough," said Buffy, and Genevieve returned the boggart to the wardrobe.
"What was that?" asked Shannon. "Did some demon try to use in ritual or something?"
"Not a demon," said Dawn, her voice quavering, "a hellgod."
"Take your time," suggested Willow.
Dawn's eyes swept over her friends, who were all looking confused, and came to rest on Draco, who nodded in support. "Okay, so, I'm not really a person. Or at least I didn't start out as a person. I'm a dimensional key, a ball of energy, that some monks hid in the form of a sister for the Slayer to protect. I first appeared when I was around fourteen years old, but the monks gave everyone, including me, fake memories of my past." Her friends stared at her in a mixture of awe and confusion.
"This hellgod Glory tried to use my blood to bring down the walls of all dimensions, to bring hell on earth. Buffy stopped it by dying in my place. Since then, nothing else has happened with the key, and I've been going about my life as a relatively normal person. Professor Dumbledore thinks that the reason I can do magic is because I use the key's energy. Like I said, nothing's happened since Glory, but none of us really know if someone else will try to use me in the future."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" asked Shannon. "Andrew mentioned something about it once. So he knew." Shannon eyed Draco, who looked a bit guilty. "Oh my god, you even told Draco but not me."
"First off, Andrew heard from somewhere that I was the key, but he never had a clue what it meant. I told Draco because he had shared something intensely personal with me. With you, I guess I was worried that things would be weird if you found out. During everything with the First and right after, you were my only friend. I didn't want to mess it up," explained Dawn.
"I'll always be your friend," stated Shannon with conviction. "Besides, it's kind of cool to know that you aren't any more normal than the rest of us."
Since Ron insisted on being last, Shannon had no choice but to take her turn. Her boggart stepped out of the closet in the form of a young preacher. Shannon began to tremble, and Genevieve forced the boggart back into the wardrobe.
"Was that Caleb?" asked Hermione, who had heard the story of Caleb attacking Shannon from Dawn.
Dawn, Buffy, Willow, and Faith looked confused. The preacher had looked a lot like Caleb, but it definitely wasn't him. "No," said Shannon softly. "That was my father." She knew that it was time to tell her friends about her past.
Harry stepped forward and took Shannon's hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I had a happy childhood with my parents. My dad was a minister at our local church, and my mom was the total stay at home type. On my eleventh birthday Victor, my Watcher, showed up on our doorstep and told my parents about my destiny. My father didn't take it too well. He decided that if vampires and demons were attracted to me that I must be evil. At first he made me pray a lot, but eventually he became physically abusive. One night after he had beaten me, Victor came by. He took me and my mother away."
Shannon smiled. "Life got good again. My mom eventually divorced my father and married Victor. Then the Bringers came and killed them. With his dying breath, Victor told me to go to Sunnydale and find the Slayer. On the way Caleb found me. I thought he had rescued me from the Bringers. Caleb reminded me of my father. It felt like my father had finally accepted me, was rescuing me."
"Caleb was just like my father. He called me a whore. Then he heated his ring with the cigarette lighter and burned me with it." She pulled her hair back, showing her friends the brand that she would carry forever on her neck. "He gave me a message for Buffy, then stabbed me and left me on the road to die. Willow and Faith found me and took me to the hospital. Buffy eventually killed Caleb with the scythe."
"I think that deep down I will always fear that my father will find me again – only that this time he really will kill me. Even though I'm a Slayer now, I still feel powerless against him." Harry put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. None of the others spoke for several minutes.
Ron eventually stepped forward. "I guess it's time to face the spider," he kidded, though he looked petrified at the thought.
"I still can't believe you're afraid of spiders," said Draco, shaking his head.
"We can't help what we fear. You know, Anya was a vengeance demon for more than a thousand years, and her biggest fear is bunnies," Willow informed the group.
Ron looked at Willow. "Bunnies? As in cute and fluffy little animals with floppy ears and puffy tails?" Willow nodded. Ron looked back at the wardrobe. "I'm definitely feeling less embarrassed. Bring on the spider."
But Ron's boggart was not a spider. Hermione lay on the floor in front of him, obviously dead. Ron stared down at the still form, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "I can't do this," he whispered, before bolting out of the room. Without a word, the real Hermione followed him.
Genevieve returned to her position in front of the boggart, which had once again turned into a glowing orb. "Riddikulus," she shouted forcefully. With a loud crack, the boggart disappeared with a few wisps of smoke.
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Hermione found Ron sitting on a bed in one of the unused rooms on the third floor. He was staring down at his hands and crying. She sat on the bed beside him. Ron gave up any pretense of being strong, as he curled up in a fetal position and buried his face in Hermione's lap. As he sobbed loudly, Hermione brushed her fingers through his hair and made soothing sounds. "Ssshhh. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere." Ron continued to sob.
After several minutes, Ron sat up, tears still streaming down his reddened cheeks. "I can't lose you," he choked out.
Hermione brushed her fingers across his cheek, feeling the wetness of his tears and the heat of his face. "I can't promise that we're all going to survive this," she said softly. "But I will do everything I can to help us get out of this alive."
"Voldemort's already taken my parents and Bill. I don't know if I can survive if I lose you too. I promised your parents that I would protect you. But, what if I can't?"
"All we can promise is to do our best to protect each other," replied Hermione.
"But what if we can't?" questioned Ron.
Hermione knew that he needed her reassurance, but she could not lie to him. "All we can do is try and hope for the best."
"I don't ever want to lose you," said Ron, his eyes boring into hers.
"I don't ever want to lose you either," Hermione replied, hoping that her words could convey the depth of her feelings for him. "I love you. I don't even want to imagine my life without you."
Ron pulled her into a tight embrace. "I love you so much." He began sobbing again. Hermione knew exactly how he was feeling. She allowed her own emotions to overtake her, and soon she was crying with him.