Important A/N PLEASE READ:

First off, two updates in a day, I know, I spoil you lot.

Anyways, there was yet another question in the reviews on what the situation with Voldemort was all about, which I already addressed in my A/N a few chapters previous.

On Halloween night, Voldemort went to the Potter's home and took Harry, delivered him to the Malfoys, and then returned to the Potter home. This, how, was a mistake, as Dorea Potter - their grandmother - had made her way over to the home in order to babysit, and had already discovered Harry to be missing, so she was on guard. Voldemort killed her, and when he tried to kill Jamie, the curse was actually deflected, hitting Voldemort, making Jamie the prophecy child.

This, however, works in Voldemort's favor, as Jamie, the less powerful of the twins, would have zero chance at actually succeeding in defeating him, the Dark Lord, the most powerful wizard of his time.

So, no, I did not forget about that, I just thought that it was implied that something went wrong by the fact that Voldemort possessed Quirrell and all that jazz. So, yeah.

If you're going to ask questions in a review, please try and make sure that you're logged in or have an account, as I loath to have to write really long A/Ns.

I do appreciate the feedback though, just, seriously, get an account so I can PM you instead of having to do all of this *waves hands around wildly*. You get the picture.

Anyways, back to the story!

Chapter Twelve: Another Day Another Destiny

The train ride on the way to Hogwarts started off with relative ease. They'd magically enlarged their train compartment this year to be bigger on the inside than on the outside, as Daphne Greengrass had joined them in their compartment, as well as Tracey Davis and Celeste Fawley, and Astoria, Anastasia, and Tanner had tagged along as well. Crabbe had left to go to the other compartment, where his girlfriend, Millicent Bulstrode, sat, and Goyle had loyally followed him.

They spent a lot of time goofing off, as Harry and Draco were closer to Nott and Zabini than Crabbe and Goyle, and Tanner Davis seemed in awe of them most of the time, before he finally snapped out of his daze and joined in on the fun, as acting free-spirited was a rare occurrence among purebloods.

Everything had been going fine, and, about halfway to the Hogsmeade Station, the train pulled to a halt, and Harry felt the cold, chilling presence of the guards of Azkaban.

"Dementors," Draco confirmed. "Looking for Peter Pettigrew."

"I don't know how to do a Patronus Charm," said Daphne, frowning. Harry perked up slightly.

"Draco and I were taught a variation of the Patronus Charm, called the Wisp Charm, and it produces a small dementor-like shadowy creature, and, instead of a Patronus, which attacks the dementors, it simply lets the dementors know that the people that it is guarding are its friends, and not to be harmed."

"Have at it, then," said Nott, who was shivering.

"Simulacrum," said Harry with a twist of his wand, and the black, shadowy figure of a snake slithered out of his wand, nodded at him, and then went to wait outside of their compartment, along with Draco's chama. And the dementors didn't bother them.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts went smoothly, and gossip flew through the train like spreading wildfire. It seemed as though Potter had managed to faint during the dementor encounter, and had had to be revived by the new DADA professor, Lupin, the werewolf. Harry and Draco had known that Scarhead was weak-minded, but they hadn't know that he was that weak-minded.

Since the compartment that was occupied by the Malfoys and Co. was near the front of the train, they hopped off first, eagerly, and waited for Potter and his babbling gang of Gryffindork misfits, and noted that Potter stepped down from the train rather gingerly, holding his head, as though he'd fallen when he fainted.

They boarded the carriages and were soon near the stone steps leading up to Hogwarts, but Draco felt the need to confront Scarhead.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Brown telling the truth? You actually fainted?" Draco elbowed past mudblood Granger to block Jamie's way up to the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Weasel-bee, whose Jaw was clenched.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" asked Harry loudly, backing his brother up. "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"If there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage.

Harry and Draco gave Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in their voice, they responded together, "Oh, no –– er –– Professor," then they smirked at Nott and Zabini and led them up the steps into the castle.

Potter and Granger were absent from the Sorting once more, and the thought vaguely crossed Harry's mind if the blood traitor was treating the mudblood like the whorish scum she was, and Draco's voice resounded in his mind.

Nah, they'd make a lovely traitor couple, but the Mudblood has her eyes on Weasel-bee, and vise versa. Potter hasn't even shown a remote interest in the female species yet…. I wonder if he's queer?

He could be, pondered Harry. But I don't think so… he might just be too caught up in fame and arrogance to bother with the lesser girls here at Hogwarts. Give him a veela and he'll be pleased.

Give any bloke a veela and he'll be pleased, scoffed Draco. Unless they're bent.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the sorting that year, as there really weren't any incoming first years that interested him, though he clapped politely along with everyone else when another student was sorted into Slytherin. Five minutes into the feast, Scarhead and the mudblood returned, much to the general displeasure of the Slytherins.

"I was hoping they'd somehow died on their way to McGonagall's office," grumbled Zabini as he elegantly turned to look at his fellow Slytherins. "Wouldn't that have been a nice 'Welcome back to Hogwarts' gift."

"Then you'd only be rid of half of them," said Nott. "Lardbottom and Weasel-bee would still be around."

"Not for long without Granger's brain," said Draco, sniggering slightly. "She does the thinking for everyone in that little group. Honestly, you'd think for purebloods, even if they are blood traitors, they'd be a bit more talented." Daphne made a small humming sound from the back of her throat in agreement, and then the Slytherins settled into silence, some of them easing into idle chatter, mainly about subjects of little to no importance. The Headmaster stood up to deliver his speech.

"Welcome!" he said, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it is best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our delicious feast…:

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business." Harry smirked, as Dumbledore didn't look too pleased at that news, but the Minister had pressed the subject, finally growing a spine for once, as he'd said, firmly, that the students needed to be protected from Pettigrew, who was still at large.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," he continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. dementors are not to be fooled by tricks, or disguises –– or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry noticed the Gryffindorks exchange uneasy glances. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors."

The eldest Weasley currently like Hogwarts –– Peter? Parker? Percy? –– Harry could never remember his name, tilted his head upwards and puffed out his chest, looking around and staring impressively –– or so he thought –– looking rather like one of the Malfoy family's preening peacocks.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued. "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with the werewolf clapped hard, Scarhead among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

Harry turned his eyes towards his Uncle Severus, who was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against he Dark Arts job, and most people were surprised at the expression twisting his face, though Harry was not. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew very well why his godfather had that certain emotion displayed openly on his face, as Lupin, along with Pettigrew, Potter Sr., and Sirius no-name, had tormented him when he'd been in his own Hogwarts years. Quite the bitter rivalry.

"And our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

The Gryffindor table quickly erupted into thunderous applause and cheering, as per usual Gryffindor rambunctious standard. The Slytherins held in barely suppressed groans.

"Who else would assign us a biting book?" Harry pointed out bitterly.

"I can't believe that oaf is being allowed to teach us!" Draco was appalled. "Father will be hearing about this, make no doubt about that."

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!" The golden plates and goblets were suddenly overflowing with food and drink, and no one wasted any time filling up their plates and beginning to dig into the wonderfully house-elf prepared meal.

It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. The Slytherins were enjoying a laugh at the expense of other people, which was common among their group, but this particular bashing of character was aimed at one Rubeus Hagrid, the new Care of Magical Creature Professor.

"I don't even know why he's been allowed to teach," Harry said in between bites of fillet mignon and cubed and seasoned potatoes. "He's not even a fully qualified wizard."

"He's not even a full wizard," said Draco darkly, stabbing at his steak with a knife, still quite angered at the fact that Hagrid had acquired a teaching. "His mother was a giantess. How does that even happen anyways? A wizard and a giantess?"

"Beats me," said Nott with a shrug and a shiver. "Quite frankly, I don't want to have to think about how such things happen." Zabini shrugged.

"It's not like it matters much, anyways. The Hagrid family was never considered elite, they were always blood traitors, and Hagrid Sr. was just acting as we purebloods always knew that blood-traitors would act. Simple, really." Harry couldn't find flaw with Zabini's logic, so the subject dropped and they continued on with their meal.

"What of Professor Lupin?" asked Daphne after taking a delicate bite out of her pasty, wiping her mouth elegantly on one of the embroidered napkins located around the Slytherin table. "Why on Earth does he look so rugged?"

"For a mutt," began Harry, smiling coyly. "He's rather well groomed." The eyes of the Slytherins around him widened, but he motioned for them to be quiet. "I think it'll be a better idea if we make him think we don't know until the end of the year, and then we let everyone know, and watch as he flees with his tail between his legs."

"Playing chessmaster again, are you?" asked Daphne with a raised eyebrow, and Harry shot her a smile.

"Well, Draco was a little bit preoccupied stabbing his steak, so someone had to step up to the position." Draco scowled at Harry good-naturedly, and pushed him lightly on the shoulder.

"Shove off." The Slytherins laughed, and the meal continued on, nothing else of great importance floating around the table as they chatted idly.

The next morning, the third year Slytherins had gathered at the entrance to the Great Hall, and Harry and Draco were entertaining their fellow classmates with funny stories about some of their misadventures that summer. When Scarhead and his trio of Gryffindorks passed, Draco did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

"Ignore him," Harry could hear the mudblood say. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it…."

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson, sneering at him. "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! Wooooooo!"

The Gryffindorks hurried off to the direction of their table and sat down quickly, and Harry cast them one last disdainful look before turning back to his year-mates.

"Did you hear her? 'Oh, Jamie, just ignore them! They aren't worth it!'," he did the last part in an impression of mudblood Granger, and his eyes darkened. "Bah! We're not worth it? More like they aren't worth it! Blood-traitors, muggle-lovers, and mudbloods, the lot of them! And to think they've the gall to think that they're better than us. The purebloods." Angry mutters of agreement escaped the others, but they quickly filed over to their seats at the table so that Snape could hand them the new third year schedules.

"You've got Divination first," Harry commented to Draco. "You'll have to tell me if Trelawney is as batty as all the upper years say she is." Draco nodded.

"And you've got Professor Vector first for Arithmancy," said Draco, thinking back to what the upper years had said about her. Veronica Vector was very popular among the upper years as an object of their fantasies. The woman was quite the looker, with her curvacious body and tight-fitting robes.

"I don't need to know," Harry inputted, as though he was reading Draco's mind –– which he could do, seeing as they had the blood bond and all –– but he wasn't. He just knew Draco too well for his own good. "I've got the lovely Miss Daphne Greengrass, so I don't need to hear about the wet dreams of hormonal teenaged boys."

Draco smirked.

"Whipped." Harry's magical eyebrow made another appearance as it floated high above his eye, almost to his hairline.

"Is that so?" he asked teasingly. "Well, at least my interests are settled. You've still got a hoard of witches vying for your attention. If you don't help Mother and Father pick soon, you might find yourself in a bit of a tizzy there, Draco." Draco shuddered for a moment, finished up his green apple, having eaten the rest of his breakfast earlier, and swung his satchel over his shoulder, faux saluting to Harry.

"I'll see you later!" Harry, Daphne, Tracey, Nott, and Zabini made their way to Ancient Runes, walking at a leisurely pace. Once situated in the classroom, Professor Vector entered, and Harry noted absentmindedly that the upper years had not been lying about her beauty. However, as Daphne was sitting next to him the entire lesson, he wasn't distracted by it much.

Ancient Runes went smoothly, and Harry rejoined the company of his brother for lunch, where they ate a light meal.

"I wonder what the oaf has prepared for us," Draco wondered aloud as the two brothers strolled outside to the half-giant's hut, hands stuck in the pockets of their robes, hair blowing in the light breeze, and satchels swung neatly across their shoulders.

"Who knows," said Harry wrily. "Regulus commented on more Hippogriffs than usual, so it might be that."

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" called Hagrid as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!" For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; which, through Regulus' tales, he knew was a rather unfriendly place. However, the oaf strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he yelled. "That's it –– make sure yeh can see –– now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books ––"

"How?" Draco drawled.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated, pulling out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Scarhead, had belted their book shut, others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn' –– hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" asked Hagrid, looking crestfallen. The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got to stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look ––" He took mudblood Granger's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been," Draco sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess?"

"I –– I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Harry. "Really witty, giving up books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Scarhead quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and it appeared that the Gryffindorks wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread. "so –– so yeh've got yer books an' –– an' –– now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hand on…"

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place has gone to the dogs," said Draco loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him ––"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you ––"

"Oooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock. Trotting toward them were a dozen of hippogriffs. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of giant eagles with steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Most drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriff!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren't they." Harry, who rather adored hippogriffs, took a step forward, eagerly taking in the sight of the different colored hippogriffs, some stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer ––" The class blinked in surprise as Harry eagerly hopped forward, his love for the creature in front of him outweighing his hatred for the teacher present, who blinked owlishly a couple of times. The Gryffindorks followed Harry's lead.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing you do."

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right –– who wants ter go first?" It seemed as if Harry was filled with surprises that particular Monday, as he stepped forward boldly.

"I'll do it."

There was an intake of breath from behind him, and he saw Draco rolling his eyes as the Gryffindor girls seemingly obsessed with Divination started fretting over him, even though they hardly knew him. The Gryffindork's eyes were narrowed, and Hagrid seemed to be looking at him in shock, as if this was some sort of joke.

"Right then –– let's see how yes get on with Buckbeak." He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray hippogriff from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Potter's eyes were narrowed maliciously.

"Easy, now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much." Harry basically ignored Hagrid's mutterings, as he was already quite experienced with interacting with Hippogriffs, his father had made sure of that. Buckbeak turned, his piercing yellow eyes looking deep into the silver eyes of the Slytherin.

Harry bowed deeply, lowering his eyes as well. If you kept eye contact while bowing, you issued a challenge, which was never good. He kept his head down low for several long moments, before slowly bringing his head and upper body back to the upright position.

Buckbeak observed him with keen orange eyes for a moment, before he bent his scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right –– yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!" Calmly, Harry stepped forward towards Buckbeak, and reached out toward him. He stroked down the beak several time, and Buckbeak's eyes closed halfway, making a keening noise in the back of his throat, clearly enjoying it.

"May I ride him?" asked Harry, turning around to see Hagrid standing there, gaping at him. "I've had lessons. We've a heard back at the Manor." That seemed to snap Hagrid out of his daze, and he nodded.

"Sure! Jus' climb up on him –– well, yeh no what ter do." Harry carefully put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wings, and swung himself with a practiced ease onto his back, and attached his hands to the scruff of Buckbeak's neck, as he knew that that was the area of skin where the hippogriffs least minded being grabbed by.

With a soft nudge to Buckbeak's hindquarters, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, who was grinning from ear to ear as they soared upward. The feeling of flying on a hippogriff was nothing like a broomstick, but Harry had long ago decided that he enjoyed both equally. It you didn't know the right position to place your legs, the wings flapping would be uncomfortable, but Harry was right at home on Buckbeak's back, gliding through the sky smoothly. Buckbeak flew with him twice around the paddock and then headed back to the ground, the two of them performing a smooth landing.

"Good work, Harry!" called Hagrid, and all of the Slytherins, and some of the Gryffindors, cheered loudly. Harry dismounted just as smoothly as he'd mounted, and patted Buckbeak on the beak a couple of more times. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

"What a brilliant, handsome beast you are," Harry whispered into Buckbeak's ear, and Buckbeak made another keening noise, nuzzling Harry softly on the head and nipping his ear affectionately, like an owl.

"May I stay with Buckbeak?" asked Harry, and Hagrid nodded. Harry summoned over Draco, Daphne, and Tracey, while Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle traveled to the pinkish roan colored hippogriff named Nike.

"He's wonderful," said Daphne, after having Buckbeak bow to the rest of the members of the group as she patted his head fondly. Buckbeak seemed to puff up with pride, tossing his head back rather arrogantly.

"He reminds me of you, Draco," Harry teased, and Draco scowled at him as he patted the stormy grey feathers of the hippogriff.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." A commotion was heard to their right, and they all turned –– even Buckbeak –– to pay attention.

Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, and Granger were stationed with a phoenix colored female hippogriff named Sunspot, who had just bowed to Potter, who was now patting her beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," said Potter arrogantly. "I knew it must have been, if Malfoy could do it… I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

In a flash of steely talons, Sunspot was upon Scarhead, and Buckbeak –– who seemed to be playing the role of overprotective mate –– soon followed, and Hagrid had to wrestle the two off of the blundering Gryffindor fool. Hagrid scooped Potter up, whose arms were both bleeding, and ran him back up to the castle.

Brown and Patil were blubbering on about bad omens, and the Gryffindors were in panic, while the Slytherins sat back and enjoyed the show.

Knews of the attack on Potter spread soon, and people started to complain to their parents. Harry, however, wrote a note to his father, saying that, instead of having the two hippogriffs executed, they could bring them to the herd at the Manor, away from the inexperienced children. Two days later, and they were shipped off, and Hagrid was just thankful that they weren't killed.

The other anticipated class was soon upon them, Defense Against the Dark Arts. When the Slytherins arrived in the classroom, Professor Lupin wasn't there. They all say down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the day of the Opening Feast, as though he had had a few square meals.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted the duels against Lockhart last year.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me." Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feets away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin ––" Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect towards the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin as if to gauge his reaction. Harry was unsurprised to see that Lupin was smiling, as he had been a prankster during his Hogwarts years.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms." Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry. Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely." He pointed the wand to shoulder height, said: "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves. With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum show out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves' left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

As it turned out, the long anticipated first lesson of Defense Against the Dark Arts pertained to Boggarts, and, more specifically, how to overcome one. They'd traveled all the way to the staffroom, and Lupin –– after teaching them the incantation –– opened up the wardrobe to Neville Longbottom, and the class was soon in stitches at the sight of Professor Snape wearing the clothes of Augusta Longbottom.

And so, the class formed a line, and each person took turns facing the boggart, and turning their worst fears into something comical. The Gryffindors had ridiculous fears, especially with a war brewing on the Horizon, and the fears of the Slytherins –– especially those that were well informed –– their fears were darker, more serious, harder to make comical.

Most common were flashed of crimson red and shocking green light, or a cold, cruel voice laughing at them. Family members lying on the floor, dying, writhing in pain. Their own dead bodies. Lupin soon picked up on this and excused the Slytherins from the exercise, while the Gryffindors continued on, howling like monkeys. Little did they know…

Little did they know….

Alright, that's it for this week, I think, unless you guys get really lucky. Please take the time to favorite/follow/review, if you like this story. I live off of reviews. Flames welcome! I need something to laugh at while I roast my marshmallows.