Chapter 16: Boggart

Dawn and Willow smiled as the students found a place to sit. "Good afternoon," they said.

"Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's lesson will be practical. You will need only your wands," Willow said as Dawn opened a portal. "If you will all follow me." She turned and walked through the portal as the students got out of their seats and followed Willow through the portal.

Dawn was the last to come through into the empty classroom as she closed the portal behind her.

"Now, then," said Willow, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe. As Dawn joined Willow the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"We got this curtesy of Professor Lupin," Dawn said. "He thought it would make a good first lesson. Since we did not discuss it last year, we agreed."

"What we have in this wardrobe is a boggart," Willow said. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Such as wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks. Now who can tell me what is a boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand. "It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Dawn, and Hermione glowed. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when we let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

"This means," said Dawn, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off putting, but Harry had a go.

"Er—because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Willow.

"Hermione, give others a chance to answer," Dawn whispered to the girl.

"It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart," Willow continued. "It becomes confused. Which should it become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. This is a spell, as we discussed last year, that can be cast without wands. But since you all are new to the spell we will use wands before moving onto not using them. Now saw the word with me. Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Dawn. "Very good. But that was the easy part. The word alone is not enough."

The wardrobe shook again.

"Alright, Neville," Willow said. "We'll start with you." Neville approached the wardrobe. "What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"It's okay, Neville," Dawn said. "Take your time. No one here is going to laugh at you. They may laugh with you, but they won't laugh at you."

Neville looked around rather wildly and then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed.

"Professor Snape …" Willow said, "hmmm … Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er—yes," said Neville nervously. "But—I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"No," Dawn said. "What we want you to do is this. Picture Professor Snape in your grandmother's clothes."

Neville nodded.

"Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville?" Dawn asked. "Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Willow. "You will raise your wand and cry Riddikulus—and concentrate hard on Professor Snape in your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into her clothes."

The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Dawn. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

"Everyone ready?" said Willow a moment later. "Neville, we're going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? Dawn or I'll call the next person forward … Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot—"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Dawn. "One—two—three—now!" She motioned toward the wardrobe and it burst open.

Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R—r—riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was now wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a motheaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Willow shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising—

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Dawn.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face—a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek.

"Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then—crack!—became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before

—crack!—becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Willow. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly.

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready, but—

"Here!" shouted Dawn suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

The legless spider had vanished replaced by a blonde woman they all recognized as the replacement professor from the year before, Dawn's sister. But something was wrong with this version of Buffy. They realized this version of Buffy was a corpse.

"You killed me, Dawn," the Buffy boggart said.

"Riddikulus!" Willow said as she stepped next to Dawn who held tears in her eyes.

Crack!

The Boggart changed into another blonde who none of the students recognized and Willow smiled at the blonde.

"Forward, Neville, and finish it off!" said Willow as she pulled Dawn into an embrace.

Neville stepped forward looking determined.

Crack! Snape was back.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Willow as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart—ten for Neville because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Willow said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for us … to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class exited through the portal Willow opened back into the Defense classroom.

"Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow?" Harry said as the portal closed leaving the three of them alone.

"Why did we not let you defeat the boggart?" Willow asked as Harry nodded. "What are you afraid of?"

"The first thing that popped in my head was Voldemort," Harry said.

"That occurred to us as well," Dawn said as she wiped the tears away. "And one thing we did not want was a Voldemort boggart."

"Then I thought of the dementor," Harry said.

"Another thing that occurred to us as well," Willow said. "And the dementor boggart while not as bad as the Voldemort boggart would still have been bad. We promise to practice the spell with you later, Harry."

"Okay," Harry said. "Can I ask you both something. Why did when the boggart that took on Aunt Buffy's form say that you had killed her, Aunt Dawn."

"Because it's my fear that Buffy will die trying to protect me," Dawn said.

"And the blonde?" Harry asked.

"Was Tara," Willow said. "The first woman I loved."