Chapter 7: The Fender, The Drums, and The Solo

The next day in their double Potion class, Malfoy sauntered into the room with his bandaged up arm, acting as though he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" Pansy simpered. "Does it feel better than it did yesterday?"

"Yeah," Malfoy said, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Claire saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away. Claire rolled her eyes and suppressed the temptation of cursing Malfoy for faking his injury.

"Settle down, settle down," Professor Snape said idly. "Today you will be brewing a new potion today. A Shrinking Solution."

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—"

"Smith, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," Snape said without looking up.

Really of all the people? Claire thought angrily. She glared at Malfoy as she went over to his table.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Claire hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked at her.

"Smith, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."

Claire seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots towards her, and began to chop them roughly.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Smith's mutilating my roots, sir."

Oh, I'll show you mutilating. Claire thought.

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Claire an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Smith."

"No, it's his own damn fault he 'hurt' his arm!" Claire said, getting fed up.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for foul language." Snape sneered. "Now, change roots with Malfoy, Smith or you'll be joining me for detention."

Claire didn't want to do either but decided to take the first option. It was probably a good thing Snape couldn't read her mind at that moment because he would've given her detention for the choice of words she was using. She grabbed her daisy roots and began cutting them up properly.

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," Malfoy said, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," Snape said, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.

Harry took Malfoy's shrivelfig and skinned it as fast as possible. He flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" he asked them quietly.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Malfoy," Claire said jerkily.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," Malfoy said in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury—"

"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury," Claire snarled.

"—he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this"—he gave a huge, fake sigh— "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"

"So that's why you're putting it on," Harry said, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. "To try to get Hagrid fired."

"Well," Malfoy said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "partly, Potter. But there are other benefits too. Smith, slice my caterpillars for me."

A few cauldrons away Neville was in trouble. Neville regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. Snape was currently yelling at Neville for not adding the correct amount of rat spleens and leech juice. Hermione had offered to help but Snape wouldn't hear it.

"Heard about the Black sighting, Smith, Potter?" Malfoy said, casually.

"Yeah," Harry said. "He was last spotted in Achintee."

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry said offhandedly.

Malfoy's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Claire said roughly.

"Don't you know, Potter?" Malfoy breathed, his pale eyes narrowed.

"Know what?"

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" Harry said angrily.

"Or maybe you just don't want to upset Smith," Malfoy said. "After all, Black is her uncle and is technically all the family she has left. Though you probably shouldn't worry seeing as he would probably abandon her just like her parents."

The bell rang at the moment, which was a good thing, because Claire would've hexed Malfoy into oblivion. She threw her bag over her shoulder and practically ran out of the classroom to get to their next class. Several thoughts ran through her head. First, how the hell did Malfoy know Sirius Black was her uncle? Second, how could he just say that Black would just leave her like her parents? Maybe he's right though. She thought. This is Malfoy we're talking about. Since when is he right? Besides Black is a murdering, lunatic. I wouldn't want him to take me in.

"Smith!"

"Listen, Mal-," Claire turned around and found herself face to face with Jason Saxton. "You're not Malfoy. What do you want Saxton?"

"I just wanted to see if you were alright." Saxton said. "You sort of just ran out of the classroom. Looked like something Malfoy said made you angry."

"First of all, since when do you care about how I feel?" Claire questioned. "And as far as Malfoy goes, everything he does makes me irritated."

"Just because I come from Durmstrang Institute and I'm in Slytherin doesn't mean that I can't care about other people's feelings." Saxton replied.

"Really? Because if I recall you didn't seem to care about those girls' feelings when they were fighting over that book in the bookshop." Claire said.

"It seems whenever I try to have a civil conversation with you, you're mind is clouded with that incident," Saxton said, growing a bit agitated.

"Don't go quoting Professor Trelawney," Claire said. "And yes it is because that was my first impression of you as a person and it definitely was not the best one."

"OK, I admit, I sort of came off as an arse," Saxton admitted.

"You got that right," Claire muttered.

"But still, shouldn't you be the better person and give me a second chance to show you that there's more that meets the eye than what you saw at the bookstore?" Saxton asked.

Claire knew he was right, which was hard for her to admit.

"I suppose," Claire sighed. "But why exactly do you want me to give you a second chance?"

"Because I feel like we could be good friends if you did." Saxton replied.

"Friends?" Claire raised her eyebrow. "Why would you want to be friends with me? You're a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor. We're not suppose to be friends."

"Maybe we should break that tradition then." Saxton said. "Look, just consider it at least. I have to go to my next class. And whatever Malfoy said don't let it get to you."

When Saxton left, Harry, Hermione, and Ron found Claire.

"There you are, Claire." Hermione said relieved. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm fine." Claire said. "Let's get to our next class. I'll explain on the way."

As they were walking to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry and Claire explained what happened with their conversation with Malfoy.

"How could Malfoy possibly know that Sirius Black is Claire's uncle?" Hermione said in a whisper.

"Who knows," Ron shrugged.

"Doesn't it seem suspicious that he knows? Why hasn't he told anyone?" Hermione questioned.

"Maybe his father found out. You heard Malfoy bragging about how his father knows powerful people. And maybe his father told Malfoy not to tell anyone because he'd get in trouble or something." Ron suggested.

"I suppose," Hermione said doubtfully.

"What I want to know is why he'd think I'd want revenge on Black. Black hasn't down anything to me—yet." Harry said.

"He was probably making it up," Ron said savagely. "He's trying to make you do something stupid…."

"Or maybe he knows something about Black that we don't know." Claire said.

They soon entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and noticed there was a wardrobe. It began to wobble.

"What's with the wardrobe?" Claire said.

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tattered old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train.

"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.

"Right then," Professor Lupin said, when everyone was ready. "If you'd stand up in front of this wardrobe we can get this lesson started."

The students did as they were told. They eyed the wardrobe, which was rattling violently, warily.

"Intriguing, yes?" Professor Lupin said. "Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what's inside?"

"That's a Boggart, that is." Seamus said in a hushed voice.

"Very good, Mr. Finnigan. Can anyone tell us what a Boggart looks like?" Professor Lupin asked.

"No one knows." Hermione answered. "Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears most. That's what makes it so—"

"Terrifying, yes. Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a Boggart. Let's practice it now, shall we? Without wands, please….Riddikulus!" Professor Lupin instructed.

"Riddikulus!" The class repeated.

"Good. So much for the easy part. You see, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a Boggart off is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing. Neville, come up here, will you?" Professor Lupin said.

Neville hesitated keeping his eyes on the rattling wardrobe.

"What would you say is the thing that frightens you most?" Professor Lupin asked.

Neville mumbled something underneath his breath.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Professor Lupin said cheerfully.

"Professor Snape." Neville said in barely more than a whisper.

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

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

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

"No, no, you misunderstand me," Professor Lupin said, now smiling. "I want you to picture her clothes, only her clothes, very clearly in your mind. Can you do that?"

Neville nodded, still uncertain.

"Now, when I open this wardrobe, Neville, here's what I want you to do…." Professor Lupin leaned close to Neville and whispered something. Neville's eyes popped open in shock.

"You can do this, Neville." Professor Lupin encouraged him.

Neville nodded nervously and took a deep breath as Professor Lupin stood next to the wardrobe.

"Now," Professor Lupin directed to the whole class, "if Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn. 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….."

Claire thought about the thing she feared the most. What did she fear? The first thing she thought about were the dreams she had. She remembered the Weeping Angels but they were more creepy than scary. Then she remembered something that all her dreams had in common; the sound of drums. How could she be afraid of drums? What did they represent? She could hear Ron muttering next to her saying, "Take its legs off." Claire knew that Ron's greatest fear was spiders.

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

They all retreated 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," Professor Lupin said, who was pointing his wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One—two—three—now!"

A jet of sparks shot from his wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, 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!" Neville squeaked.

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

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart passed, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati's boggart was a stained, bandaged mummy.

"Riddikulus!" Parvati cried.

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

"Seamus!" Professor Lupin roared.

Seamus' boggart turned into 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!" Seamus shouted.

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!" Lupin shouted. "We're getting there! Dean!"

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

"Riddikulus!" Dean yelled.

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

"Give it a try, Claire!" Lupin shouted.

Claire took a step forward.

Crack!

At first she thought the boggart had disappeared.

"Where'd it go?" Seamus questioned.

Suddenly, there was a faint drumming sound and two figures appeared. She recognized the two figures as her parents.

"You were a mistake!" her mother exclaimed, as the drumming got louder.

"We never wanted you!" her father yelled.

Claire felt anger built up inside her as she yelled, "Riddikulus!"

A giant eraser appeared and erased the figures and the drumming stopped.

"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. For a moment, Claire thought Ron had frozen. Then—

"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 Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily. The orb turned into a balloon, deflated, whizzed around crazily, then darted back into the wardrobe. The door slammed shut and the class cheered.

"Well done, everyone! I think that's enough excitement for today. Five points to each student's house who successfully defeated their boggart. For homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me…to be handed in on Monday. That will be all." Professor Lupin said.

"I wonder why Professor Lupin's afraid of crystal balls." Lavender Brown said as the students left the classroom.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" Ron said excitedly as they walked to the Gryffindor common room.

"He seems like a very good teacher," Hermione said, approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart—"

"What would it have been for you?" Ron said, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

Claire smacked Ron upside the head.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his head where she hit him.

"You shouldn't make fun of people's fears Ron." Claire said. "Just because it's not scary to you doesn't mean it's not to others."

Ron didn't say anything. They soon reached the Gryffindor common room.

"Why do you think Professor Lupin kept me from facing my boggart?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Maybe he knew your boggart would be Voldemort and didn't want the other students to face it," Hermione suggested.

"But I don't think my boggart would've been Voldemort," Harry said.

"Well, what else could it have been?" Ron questioned.

Claire remembered on the train how Harry seemed a bit freaked out by the dementors.

"Dementors, your boggart would've been a dementor, wouldn't it?" Claire said.

"Yea," Harry said. "How'd you know?"

"You seemed freaked out by the dementors on the train," Claire replied.

"Claire," Hermione began. "What exactly was your boggart? I mean, there was the sound of drums but who were the two people?"

"I don't know," Claire lied. "I'm going to go and do that homework we were assigned by Professor Lupin."

Claire went upstairs to the girls' dormitory.

"I think I know who the two people are," Ron said.

"Who?" Hermione questioned.

"Her parents." Ron answered. "I remember because she showed me a long time ago the picture in her locket of her parents and her as a baby."

"It makes sense. She's always been sensitive on the subject of her parents." Hermione said. "Why did they leave her by the way?"

Ron shrugged. "Don't know. I don't even think she knows. She's tried to ask my parents for the longest time and they don't tell her much about them. She probably wouldn't even know what they look like if it hadn't of been for the locket she's had since she arrived at our house."

"Do you think your parents know the reason why Claire's parents left her?" Hermione asked.

"If they did, they probably wouldn't tell her." Ron answered.

"Why?" Harry said. "Claire has the right to know at least why they left her."

"Well, dad would probably tell her," Ron said, "but mum wouldn't. And it's possible that my parents really have no clue why Claire's parents left her."

"Maybe her parents were in danger and they left Claire with your parents so she wouldn't get hurt." Hermione said.

"But why would her parents be in danger?" Harry questioned.

"Well, perhaps it involves Sirius Black. After all, Claire's mother was his twin. Maybe he tried to get her to join the dark side and she wouldn't so he threatened her life and maybe even Claire's. Her mother had no choice but to give Claire to the Weasley's." Hermione said.

"But then that would've left Claire in danger." Harry stated.

"Not entirely. Ron, your father works for the Ministry of Magic, right?" Hermione asked.

Ron nodded.

"Well," Hermione continued. "He could've provided better protection for Claire than her parents."

"All I know is that whatever the reason her parents left it must've been bad for them to leave their only child." Harry said.

When it came to Claire's boggart I was debating between several ideas and finally decided on her parents and the drums. One, of course, were her parents. She doesn't know the real reason why they left her (well Ron's parents told her it was because of a man who was after her and they decided to leave her with the Weasleys) but she still feels as though there are other reasons besides that and so it would be her worst fear for her parents to have abandoned her because they didn't want her. Second, was the sound of the drums. I mean in all her dreams she hears the drums and she doesn't know why so it should freak her out a bit. The title for this chapter is probably my favorite. I just like the musical terms I used for it. Anyway, I said you'll be seeing more of Jason and here he is in this chapter! Not really sure yet when he'll appear again. What did you think of Jason's and Claire's conversation? Is Jason right or is Claire right? Thanks for reading this story! It makes my day whenever I read reviews so please review!

Reply to Reviews:

Natekleh: I don't know, maybe. You'll have to wait and see.

NicoleR85: Glad you liked it! You'll slowly get to know Jason and his heritage.

Rukia-chappy (Guest): He really doesn't and me too. The only thing that Malfoy and Claire have in common is the temper.

TENZA (Guest): Well, you notice how Harry didn't say anything when Hermione said that the Knight had a crush on Claire. There's a hint. You'll find out later on in the series what the two grims mean.

Ghostwriter71: Thank you! That Siriusly (sorry just had to do it) made my day. When I was writing that whole Knight in the picture scene I could just picture Ron trying to make fun of Claire about it and I thought it'd be funny if Claire said that to him. I will tell you that Lupin definitely knew about Carina being Sirius' twin sister. Carina did go to school the same time as the Marauders since you know she's the same age as Sirius. As far as if Claire's mother is good or bad you'll find out later on.

Rainpelt the Doctor: Good guesses about the Grim. I'll say that guess 2 and 3 are close to what the two Grims mean but I'm not giving away exactly what they mean yet.