Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, and Hermione Granger found themselves dragged through the light rain and into the first carriage heading up to the school by none other than Rose Potter.

"I have an idea," Rose told the group. She didn't mention that she had stolen the idea, nor that it came from another universe. It was enough that they listened to her when she told them what she had in mind.

Neville looked uncomfortable. "Why us, though?"

"Look at us, Neville," Susan replied. She gestured at their robes, as she listed off their houses. "A Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin. I think it's a wonderful idea."

Rose looked to Hermione. "What do you think, Miss Granger?"

The Ravenclaw grinned. "I think I would've been a lot less nervous at the sorting if someone had welcomed me as I walked in." She shook the rain out of her hair, and then looked thoughtful. "Why don't we cast a few drying charms as well?"

Spellforged had never told her whether the drying and warming charms he and his Hermione had applied to last year's firsties had been his idea or hers - but after this Hermione's suggestion, Rose thought she could guess. She grinned at the Ravenclaw.

"I think that's an excellent idea."

When the four arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found the first years milling about at the foot of the grand staircase. Hagrid was doing his best to get the stragglers out of their boats and onto dry land, but the hours-long rain and the stiff breeze coming in from the lake did little to help.

Rose led the others down the stairs. Hermione and Susan stopped at the first landing, where they would cast warming charms. Rose and Neville went on to the next landing, where they would cast drying charms. All four would welcome the firsties as they passed.

Some of the first years were shivering in their damp clothes, and so Rose waved them forward. The first pair of boys was surprised when the drying charm hit them - and again when they recognized the girl in green and silver who welcomed them and told them to keep moving.

They didn't have time to stare at the famous girl-who-lived, for the girls behind them were already moving forward. Behind them, more first years were beginning to join the group as it moved up the stairs.

Rose had hardly noticed how many students remained before she noticed who her next target was. She craned her neck up…. and up… to the smiling face of Rubeus Hagrid. She kept her features impassive as she tilted her head at the man.

"You know," she said, "It's funny how soaked you are, for a man who carries an umbrella with him."

"Ah," he said, grinning down at her. "It's hard to steer the boats, you see…" Hagrid trailed off when Neville and Rose both began giggling.

"Right, then, Mister Hagrid, sir," Neville said. "Stand still, this won't take but a minute."

Hagrid was a good sport, standing up straight and (very) tall. The first years, from their place at the top of the staircase, could see how close he was to laughing at the antics of these two third years. As the drying charms did their work, he shook out his wool coat, inadvertently getting rain onto his helpers.

"Sorry 'bout that," he muttered. Looking up again, he gave the first years a wink, earning a round of laughs.

"Not at all, sir," Rose ground out. Neville laughed, and the pair began drying each other off.

When Hagrid reached Susan and Hermione, they began casting without a word - because had they stopped to speak with him, both were certain that they wouldn't be able to keep from laughing. When they were done, he thanked them.

"All part of the service," replied Susan. A few of the first years laughed at that comment as well, which gave her a chuckle.

Professor McGonagall was standing at the top of the stairs when the five reached the top. Rose saw the look of amusement on her normally stern features, and wondered how much of their act she had seen.

As tradition demanded, Hagrid gestured to the unsorted students. "The firs' years, Professor."

"Thank you, Professor Hagrid," she replied. "You'll want to take your seat with your colleagues now."

Hagrid's eyes grew wide. "Blimey," he said, before rushing through the doors.

"You four," she continued, eyeing the third years, "are much too old to be sorted."

"Awwww," said Susan, with a grin. Several of the first years snickered at her joke.

"Yes, well, we wouldn't want to deprive Hufflepuff of your talents, would we Miss Bones? Ten points to the house of Badgers." Professor McGonagall turned to Neville. "And ten points to Gryffindor as well, and the house of Lions." Neville, as Susan had done before him, nodded his thanks.

Rose found herself smiling at the Professor's speech. She was using the points to tell the first years about each house. It was much more interesting than the speech she had gotten as a nervous half-panicked first year.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall continued. "Ten points to Ravenclaw, the house of Eagles." Hermione, too, nodded in thanks. "And finally, to Miss Potter," and at this a few of the first years gasped, having not recognized the girl-who-lived. "Ten points for Slytherin, and the house of Snakes."

"Thank you, Professor," Rose said.

"No, thank you, all of you." Mcgonagall replied. "Now, off you go, your housemates are doubtless wondering where you are."

"Yes, Professor," the four replied, before they entered the great hall.

oOoOoOoOo

Poppy Pomfrey was waiting for Spellforged when he walked into the castle. He likely would have passed her by, if she had not had Professor Lupin next to her. Before the Ravenclaw could object, Lupin was steering him to the side, toward the waiting medi-witch.

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," Spellforged began.

"You were attacked by a dementor, Mister Spellforged," Pomfrey replied, sternly. "I will need to check you over, at the very least."

"Let her cast a diagnostic, Harry," Lupin said.

It wasn't an unreasonable request, after all. Spellforged didn't want to bother with it for the simple reason that he was annoyed and just wanted to sit down. He was worried about Marigold, who had also had a close encounter with a dementor.

He was also nervous about how his father would react when he learned that his son had stabbed a dementor. Not so much because of the stabbing, but rather because a dementor had gotten close enough to be stabbed. Chances were good that the Minister of Magic would get a terse letter from Director Ragnok, once the news broke.

With a defeated sigh, Spellforged nodded. "I place myself in your hands, Madam," he said.

Pomfrey huffed, even as she waved her wand around him. "That's right, you do."

By the time Spellforged made it into the hall, he was already hearing names in his head from the other four sortings. He took his seat next to Luna just as 'Creevey, Dennis' was called to the Sorting Hat. He felt a brief moment of panic when he realized that his journal was in his bag - only to see Luna handing the bag over to him with a smile. Nodding his thanks, he placed the bag next to his feet on the floor, giving up on keeping track of the new first years.

"Hey Scarhead!"

Harry Spellforged rolled his eyes as he heard Draco Malfoy's hissed taunt. The welcome feast hadn't even properly begun, and Spellforged was rapidly losing whatever patience he had. He felt Luna place a hand on his arm, but it was for naught. Leaning back in his seat, he looked at the nearby Slytherin table, where Malfoy was leaning toward him.

"I heard you fainted when you heard the dementor, is that true Potter?"

Oh good, Spellforged thought. The story was already making the rounds. Delightful.

"You'd faint too, if you saw what I did when it came into our compartment, Malfoy," replied Spellforged. If Draco was going to start something, Spellforged was determined to end it.

"What was it, then? What made you so scared?" Malfoy's sneer was in full force, tonight.

"I don't know, actually," Spellforged said, trying to look as puzzled as he could. "She had crazy eyes. Ugly as hell." He looked up and met Draco's eyes. "Couldn't tell if it was your aunt or your mum, though."

Draco's face fell, as his housemates snickered behind him. "Take that back," he snarled.

Spellforged replied in the Goblin tongue, before turning back around in his seat. Malfoy sputtered at the clear dismissal. Out of the corner of his eye, Spellforged caught sight of the glare Snape gave his godson. When Draco finally saw the look on Snape's face, he quieted down.

Spellforged took a moment to calm himself, closing his eyes. Over the link, he told the others not to bother with the sorting list, he'd just get the names tomorrow.

Besides, Chaser spoke up. Marigold decided to go straight to the tower with her Hermione, so she missed her sorting too. She's pretty shaken up.

I don't want to talk about it, came Marigold's voice.

We're here if you change your mind, Seeker replied. You're not alone.

I know, she said. Thank you.

When Spellforged opened his eyes, he saw that his housemates were focusing on the sorting. Erik and Astoria were speaking to some of their new housemates, and Hermione was writing something down in a muggle notebook. Only Luna was looking at him with concern.

He saw her look, and sighed. "Not my finest moment."

"No," she agreed. "But I think you get a pass, at least this once."

"Fair," he replied. "You're most kind."

"I mean," Luna continued. "It's not every night you have a dementor force you to relive your parents' deaths."

Spellforged stared at her for a moment, as he processed what she had said. Then it clicked.

"The screaming," he whispered. It was his mother - his birth mother. In the Goblin tongue, he cursed. /Groznak./ He had been so shaken that he didn't even make the connection.

Luna did not respond, though she was one of the few who understood the word - and what he had said to Malfoy earlier, however anatomically impossible it might have been. Instead, she reached an arm over and gave him half a hug. A proper hug would have to wait, as it would draw attention from the sorting.

Spellforged didn't care. Right then, her gesture was just what he needed.

oOoOoOoOo

The next day was Wednesday, and the first day of classes for the new term. For the five, it also meant the first day of their chosen electives.

Seeker had pointed out that the five had a rare opportunity, given their rather unique connection. Anything really important that came up in one elective could be shared with the group. In other words, it was as if the five were taking all of the electives at once.

If Spellforged and Chaser could coach them well enough, the others might even be able to take OWLs in more than just the classes they actually attended.

The alternative - actually attending all of the classes offered - would not only be challenging from a time standpoint, but also physically impossible.

Seeker chuckled at the thought - impossibility hadn't stopped Hermione from making the attempt. He and Ron had noticed her schedule, which seemed to show her signed up for all of the classes. Some of those, surely, wouldn't be doable. At the very least, Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy were held at the same time for the Gryffindors.

Of the five, they had split themselves fairly evenly even before discussing their choices. Chaser was taking Runes and Care of Magical Creatures, as was Marigold. Unlike Chaser, however, Marigold also had a Friday afternoon session with Madam Pomfrey that would (if she did well) become her healer's apprenticeship. Rose took Runes, pairing it with Arithmancy. Seeker had paired Care of Magical Creatures with Divination.

It was Spellforged's choices that had surprised the group. In addition to Runes, which would be easier for the multilingual Ravenclaw, he was also taking Arithmancy - and Divination. He claimed that his father had asked him to take Divination, as it would prove to be a useful contrast with the teachings of the Goblin Nation on the subject of prophecies.

Even Seeker knew that the request was unusual for that version of Director Ragnok. Spellforged had remarked on the fact that his father had never before given suggestions as to his schedule of classes, even during his days of training with the goblins themselves. He had made sure that Spellforged knew what he needed to know to move forward, and then let Spellforged chart his own path to get there.

When Ragnok chose to suggest Divination to his son, it meant something. None of the five knew what, exactly, but they considered it nonetheless.

The class itself was unremarkable. Spellforged was unimpressed with Professor Trelawney, but gave her what respect she was due. His tea leaves seemed to be a shapeless blob in the bottom of his teacup, but the professor said that they were a star, a sign that spoke well of Spellforged's character.

Seeker, whose tea leaves Trelawney had interpreted as a walking path, did not get as clear a message. The professor merely suggested that the Gryffindor would have a good year of quidditch.

Not sure she knows what she's talking about, grumbled Seeker.

It's a long year, replied Spellforged. Anything's possible.

oOoOoOoOo

For the three Gryffindors, that day was also the first session of Care of Magical Creatures, as well as the newly-minted Professor Hagrid's first class ever as a teacher. It was far more eventful than any of the five had anticipated.

From the sound of it, it seemed that Draco Malfoy was an idiot in any universe.

Hagrid greeted them with a nervous grin, before leading them back to a large paddock at the edge of the woods near his cabin. There, the third years were given their first glimpse of the hippogriff known as Buckbeak.

Marigold had been unwilling to approach the hippogriff, and so her Draco had made the first attempt. Unfortunately, he did not wait for Hagrid to finish his instructions to the class. Nor did he bow and wait for the creature to allow him to approach. All swagger, Draco strutted up to Buckbeak and verbally instructed it to bow to him. Buckbeak responded with a wide-eyed glare at the Slytherin boy, before swiping at him with its talons.

Draco shrieked in fear and fell backwards, screeching and holding a hand to his shoulder. Marigold could see that his robes had been ripped open by the hippogriff. She looked up at Hagrid, who had froze up in his shock at the turn of events.

Muttering to herself, Marigold went over to the whimpering boy on the ground. Kneeling down, she motioned to the nearest two Slytherins for help.

"Vincent, Greg," she said quietly. Crabbe and Goyle, both shocked that she called them by their first names - and surprised that she knew them - got down on Draco's left side.

Draco didn't notice any of them until he heard Marigold casting a diagnostic charm on him. "Get away from me, mudblood!" he spat. His right arm swung toward her, as if he were trying to shove her away. She caught his wrist before he could connect, and brought it down to his chest, folding the 'injured' limb against him to prevent further damage.

"Keep him still," Marigold said to Crabbe and Goyle, ignoring Draco. "If he broke his shoulder, and he moves it wrong, it'll hurt for the rest of his life."

That got Draco's attention, and he froze. In a small voice, he whimpered. "Is that true?"

"Some things, magic can't fix," she replied, very carefully not answering his question. She really had just wanted him to be quiet, but the thrashing didn't help her check him for injuries. He might have a sprain, which is another good reason why she wanted him still. Of course, she already knew that there would be nothing major, for she could see his white uniform shirt through the torn robes. It remained intact, meaning he had not been cut by the creature's talons. It was a narrow thing, though.

The fact that he could take a swing at her without wincing was telling, as well.

Using a sheet of parchment and a quill handed to her by Hermione, Marigold cast a diagnostic charm, and a list of recent injuries began to fill the parchment. It was not a very long list, which did not surprise her at all.

Marigold had finished her diagnostic spell when Madam Pomfrey arrived. The crowd of students parted for her, and she took in the scene with a frown. As soon as Malfoy saw her, he began mewling in pain.

Without a word, Marigold handed over the diagnostic. The medi-witch looked it over, and then looked down at Draco, before sighing heavily.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Potter, for providing first aid to a classmate," she said. Then she looked at the nervous faces of Crabbe and Goyle. "Boys, please help Mister Malfoy to the infirmary."

The three Slytherins followed Madam Pomfrey away from the group, with Draco's whimpers of pain continuing until they were well on their way to the castle.

Seeker and Chaser, meanwhile, had both followed Hagrid's instructions during their respective classes. As a result, both had the rare experience of flying on a hippogriff. Seeker had expected it to be like flying a broom, only to be surprised by how little control he had of their flight. Buckbeak, it seemed, was of a mind to indulge himself, and it was Seeker's job to hang on and enjoy the flight. Chaser had had more of an idea what to expect, and relaxed into the flight. He wondered if both versions of Buckbeak took the same flight path, but wasn't about to ask Seeker about it - not while they were in the air.

Once they landed, both of the Gryffindors saw their Draco Malfoy tell his friends to watch and learn. It was an echo of Marigold's experience, delayed by their success at taming (if briefly) the hippogriff, and the pair decided to intervene. Neither wanted Hagrid to get into trouble, nor did they want to give Draco an excuse to stir drama.

Seeker managed to give Draco's robe a pull just in time, as the angered Buckbeak took a swipe at him. Draco sputtered angrily, but was quiet when Hagrid gave ten points to Gryffindor for saving another student's life. Then he repeated his earlier instructions, taking more time to go over them in detail. No other students were allowed to approach any of the hippogriffs that day.

Chaser didn't wait for his Draco to approach Buckbeak.

"Hey, Theo," Chaser said, loud enough for the entire class to hear. "Who's the backup seeker for Slytherin this year?"

Theo Nott frowned at him. "Don't know. Why?"

Chaser shrugged. "If Draco keeps running his mouth and actually taunts that hippogriff, he won't be flying anytime soon."

"It's just a stupid animal, Potter," Draco scoffed.

"Yeah," Chaser replied. "And it could take your head off quicker than you can blink."

"That's enough, there," Hagrid said, walking over to Draco. "Didn't ye listen before, lad? You can't jus' walk up like that."

As Hagrid scolded Draco, Chaser walked back over to his friends, where Ron couldn't stop talking about how brilliant it had been to see him flying around on Buckbeak. Hermione looked relieved that he had not been hurt, but said nothing.

After class, as the group walked back to the castle, Hermione asked Chaser how he had known that Draco would make a spectacle of himself.

Chaser laughed. "When doesn't he, Hermione?"

oOoOoOoOo

Draco Malfoy had returned from the infirmary when most of the rest of his yearmates came back from dinner that night. His right arm and shoulder were held in place by a sling, and he was recounting the tale of his battle with the ferocious beast during Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon. Pansy Parkinson was sitting next to him as he embellished the incident for a few of the first years, who seemed to hang on his every word.

Rose Potter watched the scene with annoyance. She had spoken briefly with Ron Weasley, who had filled her in on the incident. From his account, Draco seemed to have done much as his counterparts had done - he strutted up to Buckbeak and demanded obedience. As with his counterparts, he had forgotten that his status as a wealthy pureblood heir meant absolutely nothing to the hippogriff, and he had paid for his arrogance by getting knocked on his arse.

When she asked, Ron told her that he had had a bit of blood on his shirt, but that he had left before anyone could get a good look. Comparing that with Marigold's description of his injuries, Rose figured that he was milking it for all he was worth.

Rose knew that she hadn't seen the incident. She hadn't been with Draco when he had his arm looked at in the infirmary. Even if he avoided serious injury in other worlds, that didn't mean that he had done so here.

All those thoughts were set aside when she saw him bragging about how brave he had been to escape the fearsome beast alive, and about how utterly unfair it was that Hagrid had actually taken points from him for defending his classmates.

"Daphne," Rose said, leaning over to her friend. "Can I borrow a sheet of parchment?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow at the request, for Rose Potter was about the last person to sit down to do homework unprepared. As she handed the sheet over, she said nothing - but her eyes demanded an explanation.

Rose smirked. "Just testing a theory."

With that, she carefully took the sheet and wadded it into a tight ball. Her eyes focused intently on the opposite end of the common room, and Draco's 'uninjured' hand. When Pansy handed him one of his textbooks, Rose threw the ball of parchment.

Her accuracy would never be up to Chaser's standards, of that she was sure. But she got close enough. The ball sailed across the room in a high arc - one that would fly past Draco's right side if left alone.

Rose trusted a seeker's reflexes, and she was not disappointed. Draco's right hand - his injured hand - snapped up and plucked the ball of parchment out of the air. The sling fell off his arm as he did so, revealing that it had not actually been holding his arm in place after all.

Draco stared at the ball of parchment in his hand, his eyes wide. He looked around the room, and saw that all eyes were on him. The Slytherins were silent now, as they watched him.

He very slowly lowered his arm. Then he put his left hand on his shoulder.

"Ow," he began to say. Pansy didn't let him get much further than that, as she smacked him in his 'good' shoulder. She then stormed off, muttering about how he had been an idiot.

Daphne, chuckling to herself at Draco's embarrassment, leaned over to Rose. "Was that necessary?" she asked.

Rose merely shrugged. "He's in Slytherin, Miss Greengrass. Someone has to teach him some subtlety."

Both girls shared a look during their next potions class, when Draco Malfoy walked in without his sling. No comment was made about his miraculous recovery.

oOoOoOoOo

The first week passed without further incident for the five Potters. Those who had taken Runes were insistent that the others were missing out, while Spellforged was content to speculate as to why he was in Divination. There was some debate as to how best to deal with the Draco of Spellforged's world, even though the Ravenclaw had no desire to interact with his version.

He found that he was still angry about Draco's taunt at the welcoming feast. Perhaps it was the resemblance between Draco and Slantedge, the nephew of the Malfoy Accounts Manager back at Gringotts. Idly, he wondered which of his antagonists it would be easier to get away with stabbing.

Rose replied that he didn't need to get away with it if he didn't get caught. Spellforged asked how many students in her Hogwarts carried knives as part of their uniform.

More than you'd think, was her enigmatic reply.

Despite the dementors in Spellforged and Marigold's worlds, and despite Draco's determination to make a nuisance of himself, the five thought that their third year had begun well.

Everything changed when they walked into Defence Against the Dark Arts a week into term, and found a large cabinet at the front of the classroom.

oOoOoOoOo

"Today," began Professor Lupin, "We will learn about the Boggart."

Marigold, sitting at the back of the classroom, looked at the cabinet nervously. Of the five, she was the one least interested in learning what she feared most. She was convinced that her parents would emerge from the cabinet, or perhaps Professor Quirrell. She had never seen Timothy Crawford, the boy who chased her into the street and was killed by a lorry.

She did not contemplate the idea that Harry - her Harry - might appear.

As her classmates walked up to the wardrobe and faced their fears, she calmed down. Neville's boggart, a looming darkness that resolved into Professor Snape, was what led her to queue up for her turn. If one simple charm could make Snape look that ridiculous - literally - then she would be fine.

No matter who walked out of her nightmares, she would be ready.

She could do this. She would do this - no matter what, or who, came out of that wardrobe.

oOoOoOoOo

Seeker was the first of the five to make it to the front of the classroom - or, rather, the first of the four, since Spellforged would not see the Boggart until the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff DADA class the following day.

As they waited, Seeker and Chaser speculated as to what form their fears might take. Both had read about the dementors after the attack on the train, and - despite having never seen a live dementor - both were convinced that their boggart would take that form.

Rose was dismissive, or at least sounded that way. Anything they saw, she reasoned, would be fake, and that took any fear out of the exercise. She thought that knowing what they faced - a boggart, rather than a true dementor - would take the creature's power away as surely as the riddikulus charm.

Marigold was silent. The boys took that as tacit agreement that it would be a dementor, and did not press her for an opinion, knowing how the creatures had affected her the week prior.

Professor Lupin's eyes grew wide when he noticed Seeker at the front of the line. Before he could face the boggart, Lupin was standing in front of him, wand in hand. The wardrobe opened, and a pale glowing orb appeared.

"Riddikulus!" shouted the Professor. With a flash, the orb had turned into an insect, which quickly scurried back into the wardrobe. Seeker barely had time to react, before the Professor's hand was gently guiding him off to the side.

Fuming, Seeker looked at Ron and Hermione, neither of whom knew what to make of Lupin's actions. Lupin called Ron forward, seeing as he was next in line, and Seeker's anger was forgotten.

What the hell? Even over the link, his ire was clear.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose had already caught Professor Lupin glancing her way twice now, even as he moved the rest of her classmates through the exercise. It seemed to her that he was tracking where she was in the queue.

Seeker's experience told her exactly what would happen if she made the attempt. Doubtless, Lupin would prevent her from facing the Boggart, just as he had with her counterpart. No, she did not have any desire to be marginalized in front of her yearmates, even if he had some good reason to single her out.

Quietly, she made her way to the back of the classroom, and leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest.

Draco Malfoy saw her move, and sneered at her.

"Too good for us, Potter?" All eyes turned to her, as more of her classmates realized that she was not waiting her turn.

She shrugged, as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Nah. I just didn't think anyone wanted to see You-Know-Who slithering out of a wardrobe." She smiled sweetly at Draco's look of horror, surprised that he could turn that pale. "Am I wrong?"

Lupin, who looked instantly uncomfortable, said nothing. The look on his face, however, confirmed her suspicions.

He thinks we'd see Voldemort, she sighed over the link. No wonder he pulled you out, Seeker.

He could have said something before pulling me out in front of the class, Seeker grumbled.

Maybe, Rose replied. Maybe not.

He should have, Chaser said, speaking up for the first time. Professor Knight pulled me aside before we started, and said that I could give it a try after class, once everyone else leaves. She even said that she expected Voldemort to pop out, and didn't want to scare anyone else.

I guess you're off the hook, then, Marigold, Spellforged mused.

After a pause, Marigold's voice came across the link. Rose was proud that she didn't react, for her sister's tone was like steel.

Not bloody likely, Marigold growled.

oOoOoOoOo

Marigold had not been sure she wanted to see her worst fear, at first. Now, having talked herself into it, she would not back down.

"Hermione," She whispered. The girl in question was standing next to her, having already gone.

"Marigold?" asked Hermione, worry in her voice. She knew how hard it had been for Marigold to step forward, and stayed nearby to lend her friend whatever support she could.

"When I get near the front of the line, can you get the Professor to show you the wand movements again?" Marigold did not take her eyes off the wardrobe as she spoke. There were three students in front of her now.

"What? Why?" Hermione looked over at Marigold in confusion.

"I think he expects the boggart to be You-Know-Who, and will stop me from trying."

"Oh," she replied. She looked unsure as she whispered back. "It won't be, will it?"

Marigold shook her head slightly. "Doubt it."

A nod. "Alright, I'll do it. Just… be careful?"

Marigold smiled back at her housemate. "Always." Then she chuckled as Hermione rolled her eyes.

When the boggart was back in the wardrobe, ready for Marigold, Hermione stepped forward. "Professor Lupin, I have a question about…" Marigold lost track of the conversation when she saw Lupin turn to focus on Hermione, taking his eyes off of the wardrobe - and her.

The flaw in her plan was immediately obvious - with Lupin distracted, there was no one to actually unlatch the wardrobe. Let's hope he doesn't hear this, she thought.

"Alohomora," she intoned, her wand moving in the correct motion for the unlocking charm. The wardrobe clicked, and the doors slowly pushed open.

A white hand was the first thing she saw, as the door was shoved aside. With slow, plodding steps, the creature stepped into view, its face a golden mirror that revealed Marigold's utter shock at the sight before her.

The hand was not a hand, but a glove. A heavy glove, secured by a ring of blue steel. The entire creature was covered in the same white material, even down to the thick rectangular backpack it wore.

The only blemishes on the creature's surface were the British flag on one shoulder, and a label across its front.

Marigold Potter's boggart was an astronaut in a spacesuit.

All conversation had stopped when the astronaut appeared, and several students were heard asking just what it was, exactly. No one was afraid of it, not knowing why it was frightening.

No one, that is, except for Marigold Potter.

Even Professor Lupin, who recognized exactly what the creature had become, made no move to stop it. This was not the Dark Lord, as he had feared, but something completely benign.

Only Hermione saw that Marigold had frozen, her wand hand shaking. Taking her own wand, Hermione aimed at the astronaut and cast the spell.

"Riddikulus!"

With a pop, a hole burst in the spacesuit's shoulder, and the whole thing deflated like a balloon. It even made a raspberry noise as it did so, earning some snickers from the class.

Hermione took Marigold's elbow and guided her to the edge of the room, allowing the next student to take their turn. Even though no one bothered the pair, it took most of the rest of the period for Marigold to calm down.

oOoOoOoOo

Once the classroom emptied, Professor Lupin approached Hermione and Marigold.

"Are you alright, Miss Potter?" he asked.

Marigold nodded. "That wasn't at all what I expected, Professor," she said.

"No, I imagine not," he agreed. "I must confess, I had expected something quite a bit darker from your boggart."

"Me too," she replied.

After a moment, Lupin continued. "You know, Miss Potter, I was at Hogwarts with your parents. They were some of my closest friends."

Marigold looked up at him, trying to look surprised. "Really, sir?"

Lupin nodded. "That's part of what surprised me about your boggart, seeing as it came from one of your mother's favorite songs."

Hermione gasped. She hadn't seen the name on the spacesuit. "Major Tom," she whispered.

Another nod. "Lily would hum that song to you when she was trying to get you to go to sleep." A look of sadness passed over Lupin's features. "You, and your brother both." Then he smiled at a memory. "One time little Harry was cranky, and wouldn't sleep. Lily came upstairs to find Sirius singing that song to him. Turns out, if he stopped singing, Harry would fuss again, so Sirius was stuck singing it over and over."

"Sometimes babies are like that," Hermione began, but her voice trailed off when she saw the look of shock on Marigold's face. "Mari?" she asked.

"Oh my God," Marigold said in a whisper. "I know what happened."

Lupin grew concerned. "What happened, when, Miss Potter?"

Marigold looked up once more. "I know why I heard that song when the dementors came near."

oOoOoOoOo

Chaser's encounter with the wardrobe was something of an anticlimax, after the buildup of waiting until after class. Listening to Seeker and Marigold's attempts prepared him for something truly sinister to emerge, perhaps a dementor or the Dark Lord.

None of the five expected the boggart to become Lily Potter.

She looked just like any of the dozens of pictures he had seen of his mother. Her expression, once kind, was twisted into an angry sneer, and that ruined the image. Chaser might have been tricked by the form of Lily Potter, but that expression was so alien to the woman he had grown up learning about that it would never fool him.

Before the false-Lily could speak, His wand was out, and the charm was leaving his lips.

The robes his 'mother' wore pooled on the floor, surrounding a tiny dog. It angrily yipped at him, and he laughed openly at the little creature. Professor Knight, suppressing a chuckle of her own, moved it back into the wardrobe and shut the door.

"Perhaps we worried over nothing, Mister Potter," the Professor said.

"Maybe," Chaser replied. "It could easily have been worse."

"Just so," she said. "Well, three points to Gryffindor for indulging your Professor's caution, Mister Potter. Off you go."

Chaser nodded. "Thank you, Professor." And with that, he turned and left for his next class.

Professor Knight turned, her eyes on the wardrobe. She frowned, debating whether to step forward, as the third years had done.

In truth, Harry Potter was the reason she was even considering it. He had fully expected You-Know-Who or something equally evil to come at him, and stayed anyway. A true Gryffindor, that one, she mused.

It had been some years since she had seen her boggart. Idly, she wondered if its form had changed. With a wave of her wand, the door to the classroom closed, and the click of the lock was heard.

It wouldn't really bother her to have someone see her boggart, but it would cause talk. Best to avoid that.

Turning, she cast the unlocking charm. The wardrobe opened, and her boggart emerged. No, its form had not changed.

Everything she had fought against as an auror, everything her parents had fought against during the war - all of it stood before her, in the form of one man. His eyes snapped to her, and a smile graced his elegant features. Without thinking, she met his eyes with her own. They always struck her, that dark eye on the left and the greyish blue on the right. It was an unsettling feature to her, on an already unsettling face.

She had vowed, long ago, never to become like him. To see him, to hear him, at the height of his powers? No, there was never a chance her boggart would take any other form.

"Hello, my dear," said Gellert Grindelwald.

Professor Knight nodded in return. "Hello, Grandfather."


A/N: The events of canon shouldn't be a rigid template for any work of fanfiction, and the epithet about the "Stations of Canon" has some validity to it. If I wanted to read the books, I'd read the bloody books. To my mind, they only fit when they help inform the characters and how they are living their lives - and, more importantly, how their lives are influencing the others of the five.

As loved as he is, we don't need Buckbeak to rescue Sirius, because he's already free. So he becomes an object lesson in Draco being a prat, and how our five deal with that. Similarly, the Boggart doesn't really matter except in that it tells us about our characters - both our five leads and Professor Knight, whose ancestry goes from subtext to text here.

Spellforged, meanwhile, will have some fun with Divination. He might not be able to play the game, not being a seer himself, but that doesn't mean he can't study the rules.

No, I haven't forgotten about Bella. But what connection is there between Spellforged/Marigold and Bellatrix Lestrange, in those two worlds? In Prisoner of Azkaban, there was a direct connection between the titular escapee and Harry - and that's not the case here. But stay tuned, I didn't set her loose for fun.

Stay safe out there. Feedback, as always, is welcome.