Harry and the rest of the Slytherins stood in the staffroom, staring at a wardrobe. Professor Lupin was lecturing about boggarts. Lupin looked awful; his face was sallow and gaunt, and his clothing seemed to hang looser on his body than usual.

"What exactly is a boggart?" Lupin asked.

Daphne Greengrass raised her hand. "Nobody knows, sir."

"True," said Professor Lupin. "Nobody knows what a boggart actually looks like, because a boggart is a shapeshifter. A boggart assumes the form of the thing that will frighten you most. Thus, we have an advantage. Harry, what advantage is that?"

"We are all frightened by different things," Harry answered easily. "When facing a group of people, the boggart won't know what shape to take."

"Precisely. It is always safer to face a boggart in a group—the boggart will become confused. A boggart who is caught between two transformations will frighten neither viewer. Boggarts are most dangerous when encountered alone. Who knows how to defeat a boggart?"

Theo Nott spoke without even raising his hand. "Laughter, Professor. A boggart feeds on fear, but is harmed by laughter."

"Correct, Theo. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, please do raise your hand in the future."

Theo blushed and looked down. Lupin continued the lecture, demonstrating the charm for repelling a boggart, and the Slytherin students dutifully repeated it.

"That was the easy part," said Professor Lupin. "Like many spells, the riddikulus charm is powered by the caster's intent. The caster must imagine something amusing or funny. Your imagination, combined with the riddikulus charm, will impose that image upon the boggart, allowing you to laugh in the face of your greatest fear.

"Who would like to volunteer to be the first to face the boggart?"

Harry looked around the class. Nobody had stepped forward or raised a hand. Even Theo's enthusiasm had disappeared.

Harry raised his hand. "Professor, can I speak with you privately for a moment?"

"Certainly, Harry."

Lupin and Harry stepped to one side of the staffroom. Before Harry could say a word, Lupin began speaking in hushed tones.

"Harry, I had intended to excuse you from this exercise. I suspect that having an image of Voldemort appear in front of the class would be disruptive and counterproductive."

"What?" Harry shook his head. "No, sir, it's not that."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Oh? What is it, then?"

Harry gestured toward his classmates. "Professor, I don't want to put my greatest fear on display in front of the entire class. It's really personal." Really, Harry just didn't want a room full of Slytherins knowing his greatest fear… whatever it was. Yes, they were his housemates, but that didn't mean he wanted any of them to have something on him. Harry put a concerned look on his face. "I think everybody feels that way, actually." Probably true, but Harry was more concerned about himself.

Lupin nodded. "I understand. Perhaps small groups? Three or four people will adequately confuse a boggart."

"I'd feel better about that, Professor. Thank you."

"Thank you for bringing it to my attention. And in a small group, I think you should be able to complete the exercise. If you would like."

"I would." Harry couldn't afford the appearance of being too weak to face his fear, either.

Lupin turned to address the class. "After speaking with Harry, I am making a change for today's lesson. Instead of facing the boggart as one large group, we will break into groups of three. While each group faces the boggart, the remainder of the class will wait in the hall. Please separate yourselves into groups of three or four."

Harry immediately looked for Tracey, but before he could find her, Pansy had grabbed his arm. "Harry, you're in my group." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Pansy never game him the opportunity. "Draco, you're in my group, too." Pansy latched on to Draco's arm just as hard.

Harry's gaze finally found Tracey, and he was glad to see that she was standing next to Daphne and Theo. Tracey gave him a small wave from across the room.

"All separated?" Lupin asked. "Good. Let's have Vincent, Gregory and Millicent first. Everybody else, please remain in the hall."

When Harry's group was called, Pansy was the first to face the boggart. A gnarled and misshapen old crone came lurching out of the closet. Open sores covered the boggart's body, oozing fluid. Its hair was coming out in clumps and its skin hung loosely upon its frame, as if the flesh were prepared to slough off at any moment.

"Pansy, dear," the thing croaked. "Why don't you give us a kiss?"

Pansy's breath was coming in quick, short gasps. Sweat had broken out on her brow, and Harry could see that her wand hand was shaking.

"Think of something amusing," Professor Lupin said. "It could be an action, or an article of clothing, or even a sound. Then say the charm."

Pansy briefly closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she spoke in a firm voice. "Riddikulus."

There was a noise like a whip crack. The boggart was now dressed in a brightly colored sombrero and poncho, carrying maracas. Pansy cackled with laughter, and the boggart turned to Harry.

Harry had spent quite a while in the hallway thinking about his fears. Although he tried to focus on Voldemort, nothing about the Dark Lord's image was particularly threatening. In Harry's first year, Voldemort had been nothing more than a misshapen face. In the Chamber of Secrets, Voldemort was a reasonably handsome young man. Voldemort intimidated Harry, but there was no visceral fright associated with the sight of him.

A dementor, however…

As the boggart turned to Harry, the bright colors on the poncho began to fade. The sombrero tipped back, and the crone's face faded into nothingness. The sombrero became the cowl of an enormous floating cloak, and the newly formed dementor loomed over Harry.

Harry took a deep breath. "Riddikulus."

Nothing happened.

"It's all about intent, Harry," Lupin said. "Focus."

Harry only heard his professor at a distance. He had begun to feel the creeping cold of the dementor's aura. He could hear voices, as if from far away. "Please, not Harry!"

Harry gritted his teeth and gripped his wand tighter. The stupid dementor was nothing but an old, dirty cloak. "Riddikulus!" he shouted.

There was a whip crack. The boggart was suddenly pinned to a clothesline, as if it were hanging to dry. On either side of the boggart hung enormous (and stained) pairs of Dudley's underwear. Harry burst into laughter.

"Excellent, Harry!" said Lupin. "Draco, it's your turn."

Draco stepped forward. The boggart twisted its head toward Draco and began to re-shape itself. The cloak stretched downward toward the floor and the clothesline disappeared. The hood turned yellow, then began separating itself into hair. The boggart ultimately settled into the form of Draco's father.

"I'm disappointed in you, Draco."

Harry could see Draco's eyebrows grow closer together.

"You are a blight on the Malfoy family tree," the boggart said in Mr. Malfoy's voice. "No son of mine would be outshone by mudbloods and halfbloods."

Draco began shaking his wand at the boggart, repeating "Riddikulus," but nothing was changing.

Lupin spoke up. "Draco, you have to focus on something amusing."

"You are pathetic," said the boggart, stepping closer to Draco. "You fail at everything you try to achieve. I would be better served by having Harry Potter as a son. He would be worthy to carry on the Malfoy family legacy, more worthy than a disgrace like you."

Harry stepped forward next to his friend. "Riddikulus," said Harry.

There was a whip crack, and the voice of the boggart was suddenly high and squeaky, as if it had inhaled helium. "Draco, you are not worthy!"

Draco smiled and raised his chin. "I am worthy. I am Draco Malfoy. I will not be harmed by mere words. Riddikulus." Another whip crack, and now the boggart's mouth was stuck shut, covered with an enormous wad of bubble gum. "Riddikulus," Draco said again, and now the gum was in the boggart's hair.

"Well done," said Professor Lupin. "Once more should send it back into the cabinet."

"Riddikulus!" Draco shouted. With a whip crack, the boggart was now encased in a giant pink bubble of gum, which rolled backwards and into the wardrobe. The door slammed shut behind the boggart.

Lupin smiled. "Nicely done, everyone. Five points each to Pansy and Harry. Draco, ten points for actually defeating the boggart."

Draco smiled. As the three students left the staffroom, Harry felt that he had to say something. "Draco-"

"Harry, if you say anything about what just happened, I will throw you from the highest tower in Hogwarts."

"Of course."

"Good. I'm sorry I haven't been speaking to you. It's juvenile, and I've been acting like a prat."

Harry grinned. "I'm sorry I haven't been speaking to you, either." Harry realized in a rush how much he had missed Draco. Eating meals with Tracy and Theo wasn't bad, but neither of them were his best friend. Harry felt connected to Draco, as if their lives were inextricably intertwined. It was surprisingly easy to apologize—keeping their friendship was far more valuable than winning an argument about… whatever it was they had been fighting about.

Pansy appeared between the two boys, throwing her arms around their shoulders. "Thank goodness! If you two didn't make up soon, I was going to do something drastic!"

"There was no need for anything drastic," said Draco.

"Drastic like what?" asked Harry.

"I had a few plans," said Pansy. "Glue your hands together was the leading candidate. If that didn't work, I was going to levitate you both into the lake and make you fight the giant squid together. My last ditch effort would have been a mind-body switch, making you live a day in the life of the other."

Draco glanced over at Harry. "Harry, I promise never to fight with you again."

Harry nodded. "I agree. No more fighting… when Pansy is around."

A/N: Last short chapter, today. No more Tuesday updates for a while - we're reverting to weekly on Friday mornings.