Ginny was the first of their little group to have Defence against the Dark Arts with their new teacher. Her older peers quizzed her incessantly for information but the young witch refused to tell them anything. However, she'd seemed more than satisfied with the class at least, so they'd looked forward to it all week.
The Slytherins and Gryffindors shared a class, so the older students in their group headed straight to class from their study group in the transfiguration classroom. They were among the last to arrive, filing in and taking the same desk as they'd had for Lockhart's lessons; right at the back of the room, just in case his lessons were as wild as their previous professor's.
Lupin arrived just after the bell, placing his shabby briefcase on the desk at the front of the room. Briefly, Hermione wondered what pay schedule the staff were on, because the professor clearly had yet to buy a new set of robes. He did, at least, look fractionally healthier although she imagined that was just as likely to be because it was currently only a day or two from the new moon, rather than because he'd had a chance to eat well.
'Good afternoon.' He greeted mildly, his eyes sliding across the class until they came to a rest on Hermione and her friends in the deeply shadowed back row. 'Would you please put your books away, today's lesson will be practical and you will only need your wands.'
Immediately, concerned muttering swept through the room. Whilst Professor Tunninger had done a number of practical lessons during his short tenure in the post, the teacher before that had almost killed himself in his first lesson, which had also been a practical. Never-the-less, the class obeyed, tucking their books away and pulling out their wands. Professor Lupin led them out of the room, down a deserted corridor, around a corner and straight into Peeves.
As soon as the poltergeist saw them, he immediately abandoned his task of stuffing chewing gum into the keyholes of all the doors and began singing a repetitive and crude song about Lupin. Impressively, despite the show of blatant disrespect in front of his newest class, the professor was still smiling.
'I'd take that gum out of there, Peeves.' Lupin advised. 'Mr. Filch will be very upset if he can't get to his tools.'
Peeves blew a raspberry and raised the volume of his singing. Instead of getting angry or threatening the poltergeist with the Bloody Baron, as everyone else was wont to do, Lupin just gave a small sigh and pulled out his wand.
'This is a useful little spell. Please watch closely.' Lupin instructed. He pointed his wand at the jammed lock, gave it a little clockwise twist, then flicked it towards Peeves. 'Waddiwasi!' He incanted. With a pop of decompression, the wad of pale blue gum shot out of the hole and whizzed straight into Peeves' left nostril. The poltergeist paused, shocked, then zoomed away down the corridor, cursing bitterly.
'Cool, sir!' Ron Weasley breathed.
'Thank you, Ron.' Lupin replied mildly. Feeling far more confident in their new professor's prowess, the class followed him to the rest of the way to their destination.
They arrived at the staff room, traipsing inside when he opened the door.
Hermione had never actually been inside the staff room before. It was long, decorated in a manner that wouldn't look out of place in an old pureblood manor with tall, dark wooden panels that sported carved gargoyles at every junction and a massive gothic fireplace loomed over them on one wall. The somber nature of the decor was spoiled by the mismatched chairs which were scattered around the large central table and against the walls, varying from overstuffed mustard armchairs to stern wooden ladderbacks.
Professor Snape was the only person in there and he sneered when he saw them, rising from his seat and sweeping out of the room with a disparaging remark towards Neville.
Lupin, however, seemed to take the potion master's words as a challenge and, as soon as the door closed behind the billowing cloak, he invited Neville to the front.
'Now then,' Lupin began, leading them to the far end of the room where there was a row of pegs, hung with robes and a large wardrobe with carved bear feet at the base. It was an ugly thing; Anneken would use it for kindling if she ever saw it. As they approached, the wardrobe wobbled on it's feet and made a large banging noise as it hit the wall behind it.
'Boggart.' Neville squeaked. Having grown up in an old manor, it was likely that he was familiar with the signs, although usually one reported their presence to the elves and left them to deal with it. The little creatures had very different minds to wixen and boggarts rarely managed to correctly guess their fears.
'Very good, Neville.' Lupin praised. 'Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, trunks, cupboards- I once met one that managed to lodge itself inside a grandfather clock. They're most common in old wizarding houses where there's plenty of latent magic for them to feed off, but occasionally you'll find them in newer residences.' Lupin paused as the wardrobe gave another violent rattle. The knowledge of what was inside had clearly done very little to reassure those of the class from older families, many of whom probably had at least one traumatic childhood memory of accidentally stumbling across one.
'So, the first question we must as ourselves is, what is a Boggart?' Harry put his hand up, eyes squinted slightly as he recalled what Lord Nott had told them when Harry had almost opened a similarly rattling trunk over summer.
'A shape-shifter... it takes the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.'
'Excellent, Harry.' Said Professor Lupin. 'Quite correct. So, the Boggart has not yet assumed a form because he does not yet feel threatened. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like because as soon as we see it, it will assume the form of whatever will frighten us.' Again, his words failed to reassure the class. Neville was beginning to look quite pale at the front of the class.
'This means we already have an advantage because it won't know which shape to take. It's always best to have company when dealing with a boggart. They are not aggressive, but it can be very trying if you're caught unawares.'
Hermione had never actually faced a Boggart before; like Harry, Gellert had caught her before she could open the ominously shaking desk and she'd been thoroughly warned off. As Lupin continued to explain how to defeat a Boggart, Hermione wondered what exactly scared her most. She'd seen many terrifying things in her short life, and battled many of them but very few really frightened her anymore... and Boggarts chose fears rather than memories.
Inferi, which had been her first terrifying encounter, were less terrifying now that she could conjure swathes of wandless fire with little effort. Perhaps it would be death? A flash of unblockable green light. She was afraid of death, but it wasn't her greatest fear. Her second thought was failure; either to fulfil the expectations of bring her family greatness, or to protect those closest to her. Perhaps she would see her allies, killed by gruesome curses...
Her train of thought was broken as the people around her began pulling out their wands and waving them, chanting the charm. She hastily copied, having never actually performed that specific piece of magic before. It was quite elementary; well within the capability of a third year and she was reasonably confident that she could succeed, so long as she thought up some way to make her fear funny... whatever it ended up being?
'Now, Neville. Tell me what frightens you most?' Lupin asked, leading the very pale boy forwards. Neville was a good wizard, but his magic was often slow to react and quite instinctual when it did. He struggled with many school subjects because he couldn't perform on the spot very well. He glanced back at her fearfully and Hermione was filled with foreboding as he muttered something under his breath.
'Sorry, what was that, Neville?'
'Bellatrix.'
Hermione winced sympathetically and Lupin's lips tightened.
'I think I know what to do.' Neville said resolutely, shrugging off the comforting hand on his shoulder and squaring up against the wardrobe. Lupin looked surprised, but gestured the rest of the class backwards. He counted Neville down, then a spark jumped out of his wand and hit the doorknob.
Slowly, the wardrobe door creaked open. Any colour that might have remained in Neville's cheeks disappeared as a manic laugh echoed from outside the gloomy depths. Several people shifted nervously whilst others craned their necks to see what was inside. Heels clacked against the floor of the wardrobe, then a figure stepped out. The witch's hair was pitch black, falling in wild ringlets that almost obscured the iron Samhain mask that she wore. Her lips were hidden, but that wild cackle still rolled from her mouth as she drew a twisted wand from her pitch black, fluttering battle robes.
'Riddikulus' Neville squeaked, waving his wand exactly as he'd been shown. As first, Hermione thought it hadn't worked. Bellatrix waved her wand, opened her mouth... and barked like a dog. Her expression turned thunderous, she slashed her wand again and this let out a long, braying whinny. Neville grinned victoriously, stepping back to let a gryffindor girl take a turn. There was a crack like a whip and Bellatrix was replaced by a tall, bloodstained mummy.
'Riddikulus!' The girl cried. The bandage unravelled like a loo roll, entangling the mummies legs and sending it tumbling.
'Nott!' Lupin called. Theo took Parvati's spot and the mummy was replaced by a massive Sleipnir which snorted furiously, pawing at the ground.
'Riddikulus!' Theo barked. The sleipnir tripped over it's own many legs and crashed to the floor. Ron was next and a spider took the sleipnir's place, almost the same size and very hairy. A wave of Ron's wand later and the spider was wearing roller skates. Another gryffindor summoned a banshee which then lost its voice, Goyle's was perhaps a dancing teacher, Crabbe followed up with Madam Parkinson which provoked gales of laughter from a number of Slytherins as Pansy was forced to step in instead, her mother turning into a stinking dead bird. Two more Gryffindors had their turn, then it was Hermione at the front of the line.
Gellert Grindelwald stood in the middle of the room, perhaps in his early twenties. His hair was bleached at the tips, his eyes mismatched as they were in the older version that Hermione knew. The elder wand hung with signature ease from long, pale fingers.
'Hermione, sister.' He purred, the English coiling from his lips with the danger of a lethifold. 'I thought you were great... a true Grindelwald.'
The class seemed to abruptly recognise him, several stumbling back with cries of fear that made Gellert's lips curl with pleasure.
'You've abandoned me... left me to rot in a cell... forgotten the old ways...' The boggart lifted its fingers to brush at a flyaway curl.
'Riddikulus!' Hermione screeched, almost jabbing out the inky iris with her wand. There was a sharp snap and Gellert was standing, dumbfounded, as the snowball that had launched from the end of Hermione's wand dribbled down his collar. She hurried away; nobody was laughing and she found herself deeply shaken. Had she abandoned Grindelwald?
She shook herself firmly as Harry took her place. Grindelwald was imprisoned because he'd done wrong; he'd killed people, sunk into dark magic, broken all the sacred laws which he'd sworn to uphold. She had not abandoned him, and he deserved to rot in a cell. It was her mercy which would allow him to be released in the future, not any sense that he was due it.
She looked up, Harry was raising his wand, then suddenly Lupin was pushing him out of the way. There was a large crack and a large, unmistakably full moon hung just above head height.
'Riddikulus...' Lupin flicked his wand and the moon deflated like a balloon, whizzing around and around the room before rocketing back into the wardrobe, the door shutting behind it with a bang. Harry looked furious, but didn't say a word as Lupin congratulated everyone and handed out points. They were assigned homework, then dismissed. Everyone immediately broke out into excited chatter about how well they'd dealt with their own fears. Hermione fought her way through the crowd to Harry, meeting Theo along the way and dragging both boys off towards the Library for their free period. Neville caught up with them a moment later, having trailed out at the back of the class.
'Why didn't he let me fight it?' Harry complained bitterly.
'What do you think?' Theo sounded amused, 'he'd already had one dark lord appear in his class, I'd bet he was worried about a second one.'
'Huh?' Harry asked, sounding confounded. 'Oh, I didn't even think of Voldemort. I was thinking of a dementor, actually.'
Both pureblooded boys shuddered.
'I still can't believe that was Grindelwald. He didn't look anything like I imagined. I thought he would be...' Harry trailed off.
'Less golden boy?' Neville finished for him, a shaky grin licking up at the corners of his mouth. The shy boy was still very pale.
'Yeah...' Harry trailed off.
'I think its a prerequisite for being a dark wizard - you've got to be good looking first.' Hermione said wryly. 'Mordred, Riddle, Gellert...'
Everyone's noses wrinkled and Hermione snickered, sliding into the library and heading for one of their favourite tables near the windows.
'I can't believe you just said Riddle was good looking.' Harry muttered.
'He was... if you're into pretentious snots in suits...' Theo guffawed, clapping his hand over his mouth to prevent any louder reaction that would get them kicked out by Madam Pince. Neville gawped and Harry dropped his head into his arms.
'You're crazy... brilliant but crazy.' The Boy-Who-Lived muttered.
'The best of us are.' She grinned, then swanned off to fetch some books to help with Lupin's assigned homework.