Eric left off half of his lunch hour to take a nap. While it wasn't as much sleep as he needed, it was enough once added to a reasonable lunch that was somewhat hastily eaten. Looking about, he could see that a number of his fellow classmates appeared somewhat apprehensive, as if they weren't sure of what they were in for. He smiled to himself, knowing what a treat Hagrid had prepared.

"Well, boy, are yeh ready to knock some socks off?" Hagrid had strolled through the hall, looking proud and excited. Eric was ready, as he was currently reading up on the subject in the Monstrous Book. It took the better part of half an hour to figure out how to get the book to behave, but the information provided was worth the trouble. The author may have had a seriously sick sense of humor, but at least he knew his subject.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I wonder if I could borrow our new teacher's assistant for the afternoon?" Professor Lupin had walked up to their discussion, and seemed intent on diverting Eric's schedule. "I have to examine a boggart and I would appreciate some help."

Eric certainly didn't want to leave his adoptive father without help, but Hagrid seemed happy enough to offer his assistance. "Well a'course yeh can. I've got everythin' I need, and I wouldn' want the students thinkin' I don' know how teh handle today's subjects."

Eric looked up uncertainly. "Are you sure? I mean, there are a dozen of them."

"Nah – they won't be any trouble at all. You go on an' help Perfesser Lupin now; I'll be fine."

Eric quickly finished his lunch and followed Professor Lupin. Hagrid was right: the hippogriffs all were well behaved. Suddenly, a thought came to him. "Professor, could we stop by the greenhouse for a minute? I need a few things."

Though confused, the professor agreed. Stopping by and being careful not to interrupt Intermediate Herbology, Eric gathered together a pot, a trowel, and a moderate amount of soil. Stepping out to the courtyard, he trimmed a branch of ivy and set it into the pot. "Folia intermina." The plant settled and seemed to grow slightly. Adding a small amount of water to moisten the soil, he returned to the Professor. "Now we're ready."

Lupin looked confused for a moment, then his eyes seemed to light up with a realization. "Well, Mister Sable, this should prove very enlightening." He turned and lead Eric back through the main building to the staffroom. A small group had gathered in the middle of the room; Filtch was grumbling to Professors Flitwick and McGonagall while Professor Snape was towards the back, looking extremely dour. Professor Dumbledore broke off from the rest of the group and turned to the newcomers. "Ah, Professor Lupin. I understand that you have a request?"

"Yes, sir. If my suspicions are correct, there is a boggart in this wardrobe – one which would be very useful to my third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. If I can confirm that it's here, I would like to contain it until tomorrow, at which point my class will dispense with it."

Dumbledore nodded, then turned to Eric. "Would you please explain why our current unconventional student is a part of this, when he's scheduled to be helping Hagrid with his class?"

Lupin began to prepare himself to face the Boggart. "An opportunity to examine a student's abilities should not be overlooked, especially in Eric's case. Are you ready" As Eric nodded, he stiffened his arm at the door. "Now, I only want you to wait long enough for me to prepare, then drive the boggart to me. Once I disable it, drive it back into the wardrobe."

Lupin opened the wardrobe. A figure swooped out of the darkness: tall, hooded, and dressed in black. It's hood drew back to show a faceless head, slick and oily. Eric shouted out "Riddikulus!", and it suddenly was covered in pansies and cattails.

Swerving towards Lupin, it transformed again into a glowing orb. "Riddikulus"; the orb was transformed into a small glowing hedgehog. "Quickly now, secure it before it transforms again."

Positioning the pot between himself and the boggart, Eric began to swirl his wand. "Ceangailin!" The boggart found itself emeshed in tendrils as the potted ivy spread about it. Eric slashed his wand upward: "Pairilis!" As the ivy completed it's encirclement, the boggart froze in place. He twirled the wand in slow circles, ending the motion with the tip pointing at the dark space in the wardrobe: "Bpriosun!" An invisible force pulled the pot and the immobilized bogart into the wardrobe, at which point Lupin shut the wardrobe.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "A most impressive display. I would, however, like to know how it is that you came by the spells you used."

Eric looked about with some foreboding. "Damhandorcha's Applications of Power; it's a fairly complete essay of the more direct uses for magical abilities. His opinions of the strengths of the Gaelic and Celtic schools of magic versus the more traditional Latin schools bear out under initial examination. Of course, that may also simply be a matter of focused will on the part of the wizards in question."

Professor Flitwick was the first to step forward. "True, those schools do hold a great deal of power. They are, however, highly unstable, and generally not given to orderly use."

Eric turned to the head of his house. "That is the general perception. In fact, Latin schools are no more or less stable than other cultural traditions. It is true that it is more orderly and understood, but only because it's been studied and established more thoroughly than the rest, with the possible exception of the Chinese."

Professor McGonagall was the next to turn to him. "That may be, but power does have it's consequences. You are aware that Damhandorcha was a Death Eater; considered to be one of ... his most loyal followers?"

"The fact that he had fallen into the Dark Arts doesn't invalidate his work." Eric looked about nervously. He began to believe that he wasn't asked to come in order to wrangle a boggart. Either that, or the first reason had since been eclipsed by a more focused purpose.

The room was silent for several minutes before Dumbledore finally spoke. "Mister Sable, thank you for your efforts. You are dismissed."

As he left the staffroom, Eric pondered his missteps. He was aware that the Gaelic schools held a bad reputation due to the people who pursued them. He also was sure that they held no more or less of a dark nature than any of the other historical sources. It was just that spells drawn from those sources tended to hold more power, and thus were more interesting to those seeking power.

Eric might well have pondered this problem into the afternoon if a sudden chill hadn't run up his spine. There was no one about, not even the ghosts he was expecting, but he found himself drawn to a reflection. It was a window pane that was reflecting when it shouldn't have, showing a scene that it shouldn't have. He saw the courtyard, leading out into an open field by Hagrid's hut, passing outward towards the Forbidden Forest where a number of students were gathered. Hagrid was driving out the hippogriffs to the students, introducing them.

While the scene seemed quite normal, and Hagrid looked like he was doing well for his first class, an overriding chill continued to plague him, giving him the most dreaded thought – something was going to happen!

Wasting no time, Eric bolted off towards the field. He tried not to think about getting there, for what was he going to say? He saw the class, and had a dread feeling that something was going wrong? How would Hagrid take it when his loyal assistant was doubting his abilities?

Taking no time to wait, he found himself doubling into Dorian. "Hey – where's the dragon?"

"Come on!" Eric wasted no time to explain, but his friend dutifully gathered himself together and ran after him.

Unfortunately, when they arrived Eric saw that he was too late. Hagrid had Draco Malfoy bundled up in his arms, screaming, while he was running off. He could see that Draco was bleeding, though he wasn't sure how badly. The rest of the Magical Creatures class was following, while the hippogriffs were still wandering in the field.

Eric turned to Dorian. "I have to round up the hippogriffs. Mix with the class and find out what happened."

"Me? Why should I have to grill everyone?"

Eric gazed at him sarcastically. "Are you up for switching places?"

Looking past Eric, Dorian suddenly seemed to go weak. "Um, while it looks like a lot of fun, I wouldn't want to deprive you. I'll let you know what I find out."

While Eric didn't envy the job Dorian had to do, he found himself faced with a very unpleasant prospect. Deciding on a suitable course of action, he stopped by Hagrid's hut, coming out in one of his leather vests. While it was true that the vest felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, it was protection. Next, he wrote down a couple of quick notes, then blew on a whistle to summon his owls. Midget and Widget dutifully arrived within seconds.

"Ok boys, now this is dangerous. If I'm attacked, Midget, you take this note to Madame Pomfrey. Widget, you take this note to Willy. Do you both understand?" Enthusiastic hoots from each of them gave Eric a reason to pray they didn't act out of turn. Giving them the notes, he then entered the paddock.

Taking a moment to recite to himself everything Hagrid told him that morning, he walked up to the closest of the beasts. "Lord Hippogriff, it is necessary that I escort you to the pens. I would be honored if you would accompany me." While he had no idea whether or not the creature understood him, the manner worked, and the hippogriff followed quite amiably as he led it back to the stables.