I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.
Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.
Chapter Twelve: Abstract Fears
Whoever decided that Gryffindors and Slytherins should be in a class led by the Head of Slytherin needed to be doused in cold water, as the only way that idea could possibly make any sense is if the one behind it was horribly drunk.
Making a potion with only one arm wasn't the hardest thing Moon had ever done, but listening to the Slytherins and Gryffindors snap at each other was putting her on edge. Having Professor Snape skulking around and nitpicking the Gryffindors' potions didn't help at all. If it wasn't for Hermione's intervention, Neville would have lost his pet toad and Moon would have to have Peeves targeting Snape for the rest of the term.
'I might just have him do that anyway,' she thought sourly.
There hadn't been much talk besides the occasional sharp remark between the two houses, and a tense conversation about the possible sighting of Sirius Black. Draco had taken the opportunity to goad Harry, but Moon had been too focused on following the instructions to care. It wasn't until after class—when she walked with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and after an incident that assured her that Hermione was a time traveller—that she learned what was said.
"So Malfoy thinks Black's got it out for you?" she said, almost bored.
"It makes no sense, does it?" Harry answered.
Sirius Black Sirius is the dog star literally Dog Black who named their kid that freaking Arceus Harry saw a Grim which is a black dog and the tea leaves had a Grim could that be connected
"None at all," Moon said as they entered the Great Hall for lunch.
She was, admittedly, dreading her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Moon took extra care to not grip her bag too tightly or clench her teeth. She tried her best to look bored.
Which was rather easy when she realized Lupin wasn't in the room.
With the crisis temporarily avoided, she pulled out the textbook and started reading. Defence would never be her favourite class (Charms held that title), but she could appreciate the material. It was geared more towards combat than anything, but it was essentially a little bit of every class mixed into something practical.
The sound of the classroom door opening again caught her attention. Lupin walked in, smiling slightly as the students stopped chatting. He set a battered suitcase on the front desk and turned to the class.
"Good afternoon," he said, and Moon noted begrudgingly that he sounded friendly. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands."
This was obviously not a normal occurrence, as the other students started to exchange looks as they packed up their books and quills.
"Right then," Lupin said when everyone had gathered all of their things, "if you'd follow me."
The class followed Lupin out of the classroom and into the empty corridor. When they turned the corner, Peeves was floating there with his ankles above his head and his thumb jamming a piece of chewing gum into a nearby keyhole. When Lupin was about two feet away, the poltergeist broke into a song.
"Loony, loopy Lupin," he sang, "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin…"
As much Peeves enjoyed causing mayhem, he was always relatively respectful of the professors. This was new behaviour for him. Moon looked over to see Lupin's reaction, and was mildly surprised when she saw him smiling.
"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole, if I were you, Peeves," the man said politely. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."
Peeves, in typical fashion, ignored him, choosing to blow a raspberry instead. Lupin sighed and took out his wand.
"This is a useful little spell," he said to the class. "Please watch closely."
He raised his wand, said "Waddiwasi!" and pointed the wand at Peeves. The chewing gum rocketed out of the keyhole and flew into Peeves' left nostril. The poltergeist fled, letting out an impressive series of curses as he flew down the hallway.
"Cool, sir!" Dean Thomas said in awe.
"Thank you, Dean," Lupin said as he put the wand away. "Shall we proceed?"
Most of the students were impressed, but Moon was not. Peeves would be causing trouble in another part of the school. Fortunately, they did not encounter the poltergeist again as they walked down another corridor and stopped outside the staff-room.
"Inside, please," Lupin instructed as he opened the door. The students filed in to the almost-empty room. Professor Snape was sitting in one of the armchairs, and he didn't seem the least bit surprised to see a group of third-years wander in.
"Leave it open, Lupin," he sneered as the Defence professor made to close the door. "I'd rather not witness this."
Professor Snape strode across the room, his cloak fluttering behind him. He stopped at the doorway and spun on his heel so that he was facing Lupin.
"Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."
Moon frowned. Treating the Gryffindor students like garbage was awful enough when it happened in Potions with Slytherins, but badmouthing Neville in front of another teacher was a whole new low.
Lupin raised his eyebrows.
"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably."
Professor Snape was furious, but said nothing as he stalked out of the room. Neville had managed to attain the exact colour of a Cheri. Moon was impressed for a brief moment before she squashed the feeling down.
"Now then," said Lupin, guiding the class towards and old wardrobe. As he approached it, the wardrobe moved on its own, hitting the wall with a loud thud.
"Nothing to worry about," Lupin assured. "There's a Boggart in there."
'Something that transforms into your worst fear is nothing to worry about,' Moon thought wryly.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," Lupin explained. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice.
"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air before Moon even thought of answering.
"It's a shapeshifter," she said confidently. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," Lupin said. Hermione beamed, but Moon had to suppress an eye-roll.
That was literally right out of the textbook!
"So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form," Lupin continued. "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 I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."
Neville squeaked, but everyone ignored it.
"This means that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"
Hermione had her hand in the air again, preparing to answer the question herself, but Harry managed to come up with an idea.
"Er—because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"
"Precisely," Lupin said. Hermione's hand dropped reluctantly, as though she was disappointed that she didn't answer. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."
The students laughed, suddenly less nervous about the Boggart than they had been a minute before. Even Moon had to suppress a smile.
"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. We will practise the charm without wands first. After me, please… riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" the class chanted.
"Good," Lupin said. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And that is where you come in, Neville."
Neville looked as though he was walking towards his demise as he approached the shaking wardrobe.
"Right, Neville," Lupin said. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"
Neville mumbled something too quiet to hear.
"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Lupin said kindly. Neville only looked around worriedly, as though he was hoping to find an escape route.
"Professor Snape," he finally whispered. The class laughed, and Neville smiled sheepishly, but Moon frowned. Having a professor, someone who you had to face every week, be your worst fear could not be easy on a person. Neville had always seemed skittish, but facing his worst fear every week was admirable.
"Professor Snape," Lupin muttered. "Hmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"
"Er—yes," Neville admitted. "But—I don't want the Boggart to turn into her, either."
"No, no, you misunderstand me," Lupin said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"
A lightbulb went on in Moon's head.
He wouldn't… would he?
"Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress…"
Moon's eyes flickered over to Lupin, who was smiling brightly.
He's actually going to have Neville conjure Snape in drag.
"Right then," Lupin said. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
"Yes," the blond boy said nervously.
"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," Lupin explained. "And you will raise your wand—thus—and cry 'Riddikulus'—and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, that big red handbag."
The class roared with laughter at the image of the Potions professor. The Boggart shook the wardrobe again, more aggressively than before.
"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn," Lupin continued. "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…"
A hush fell over the class. Moon had no idea what her deepest fear was. She wasn't spooked by Ghost-type pokémon or Bug-type pokémon. The spooky myths she heard about some pokémon as a child held no weight anymore as she had met most of them. Even her fear of Lusamine in her merged form had disappeared within a few weeks of the fateful fight. The only times she had truly felt fear had been intense moments with incredible pressure placed on her.
'You fear tragedy,' her mind supplied. 'How do you make that funny?'
"Everyone ready?" Lupin asked.
Most people were rolling up their sleeves in preparation for the Boggart. Moon discreetly shuffled back a few steps. To her surprise, Harry didn't appear to be ready to face the Boggart, either.
"Neville, we're going to back away," Lupin said. "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—"
The class pressed themselves up against the walls. Neville was left alone next to the wardrobe, nervous but prepared.
"On the count of three, Neville," Lupin said as he pointed his wand and the wardrobe's handle. "One—two—three—now!"
Sparks shot towards the wardrobe, and the door burst open. An exact copy of Professor Snape stepped out, his face twisted into a familiar sneer. Neville started to back away, raising his wand defensively. The Boggart-Snape was approaching him, towering over him…
"R-r-riddikulus!"
The sound of a whip crack was followed by a loud roar of laughter. Boggart-Snape had nearly fallen in surprise, tripping himself on the hem of the green dress.
"Parvati! Forward!" Lupin instructed over the noise. Parvati moved towards the Boggart. Another crack of noise, and the Boggart had shifted into a decaying mummy. The mummy raised its blood-stained hands towards Parvati.
"Riddikulus!"
The mummy tripped on a bandage that had unravelled, landing on its face. The head snapped off, rolling across the floor. Seamus was next, and this time the Boggart shifted into a skeletal woman with a thick veil of black hair. The Boggart opened its mouth and shrieked, louder than any human could possibly shriek.
"Riddikulus!"
The banshee's scream abruptly turned into a hoarse noise as she lost her voice.
The banshee was replaced by a rat, then a snake, then an eyeball. The Boggart didn't stay in any form for more than a few seconds.
"It's confused!" Lupin shouted. "We're getting there! Dean!"
The eyeball shifted into a severed hand than crawled around on its fingertips.
"Riddikulus!"
A mousetrap snapped shut over the hand.
"Excellent! Ron, you next!" Lupin shouted.
Many people screamed as the Boggart shifted into a human-sized spider. The Boggart seemed to regain some of its strength as it headed towards Ron.
"Riddikulus!" the redhead yelled, and the spider was suddenly legless. It rolled across the floor, causing Lavender to dart out of the way. It stopped when it reached Harry and Moon. Whether it was intentional or not, Moon shifted forward a step.
Crack!
The spider had vanished, leaving behind a dog-like creature that was covered in silky-white fur on every part of its body except for its face. Red eyes shone out from its greyish skin. Sharp talons dug into the stone floor. It threw its head back, brandishing the scythe it bore.
"Riddikulus!"
The fur on the Absol's body grew and grew, until it was no more threatening than a giant cotton ball. The class laughed, and out of the corner of her eye, Moon saw Harry step forward.
"Here!"
The Boggart, who had been focusing on Harry, was suddenly blocked by Lupin. Its attention turned in response to the newcomer, and it shifted into a white orb that simply hung in the air. Lupin's spell was done with half the enthusiasm that everyone else displayed, as though he had faced his fear so many times that it simply didn't matter.
The Boggart fell to the floor as a cockroach, and Neville was brought back into the fold. Snape appeared again, more menacing than ever.
"Riddikulus!" Neville yelled, sounding much braver than he had before. The Boggart was forced into the ugly hat, the old dress, and the gaudy handbag. It only took Neville laughing once for the Boggart to burst, sending spirals of smoke up in the air.
"Excellent!" Lupin cheered over the applause of the students. "Excellent job, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see… five points to every Gryffindor 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," Harry protested.
"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin explained. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise it for me… to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."
The entire class was chattering excitedly as they left the staff room. Moon smiled reluctantly—the lesson had gone better than she had expected—and turned her attention to her friends. Her smile vanished when she noticed that Harry was frowning.
"Problem?" she whispered. Harry looked shocked at being pulled from his thoughts so suddenly.
"Er—" he mumbled, but was cut off by Seamus shouting.
"Did you see me take that banshee?"
"And the hand!" Dean added, gesticulating his own wildly.
"And Snape in that hat!"
"And my mummy!"
"I wonder why Professor Lupin's frightened of crystal balls?" Lavender wondered.
"Probably has had some bad experiences with prophecies," Moon shot over her shoulder.
"That was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" Ron said happily.
"He seems a very good teacher," Hermione agreed. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart—"
"What would it have been for you?" Ron laughed. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"
Moon turned back to Harry. "Well?" she asked quietly, pulling the dark-haired boy back and letting the other two continue their walk back to the classroom.
He hesitated for a moment, before Moon started to glare.
"Back when you faced the Boggart," he whispered, "did you move in front of me?"
Moon blinked. "Maybe I did, but it wasn't intentional."
Harry let out a short breath. "I could handle it."
"I'm sure you could."
"But Professor Lupin—"
"Probably thought that you would see Voldemort," she finished.
"You said his name," Harry said, stunned.
"It's a name, not a curse word."
"Most people act like it is," he muttered. The two started walking again to keep up with the rest of the students. "Still. Why did you move towards the Boggart?"
Because the first thing I heard about you is that you ran away from your relatives. Because I saw the stories in the library about how you were orphaned as an infant. Because sometimes the teachers talk amongst themselves about how you fought off your parents' murderer twice in two years. Because my first impression of you was that you were like Lillie, trying to be brave at all times.
"I was sort of curious as to what form it would take," Moon said. "My fear's a bit more abstract than spiders or banshees."
"What was that thing, anyway?" he asked.
"An Absol," she replied. Harry's brow creased, and she cut off the next question.
"It's a bad omen where I'm from. When one appears to a human, a disaster is sure to follow."
"Really?"
"Most of the time," she backtracked. "They don't like populated areas, but are extremely sensitive to changes in the atmosphere. They tend to try and warn people of the disaster and get everyone to safety, but people started believing that the Absols were the ones bringing trouble. They're considered to be highly unlucky."
His frown deepened, and she knew that he was thinking about the Grim.
She wanted to tell him not to worry, that he's lived long enough past the prediction that it's unlikely that he's in danger, that it might not actually be the Grim at all and that he has a long life ahead of him. But they've barely known each other for three days, and her words would mean very little to him. So she continued walking, trying to keep her injured arm guarded and her mind off of the Defence lesson.
Trying to stick to the timeline of the book is so weird. I'm currently writing the Christmas holidays from Moon's perspective, and I just realized that that section was the halfway mark of the book. There's still so much I want to do… so many scenes to write…
I have plenty of time of course, there's just so many ideas as to how some scenes will go that I just want something written down already, and yet I feel like I need to do it chronologically. That's life I guess.
Review?