Hermione didn't know what to expect when she woke up on her birthday. As she became adjusted to the surroundings of her dorm room, she wondered how young girls could make so much noise as they slept. There was no sign of anything special in the room, not that she had anticipated her roommates of doing something for her birthday, or even remembering that she was celebrating today. So, as quietly as she could, she stepped out of her bed, doing her best not to wake the others up. They got incredibly angsty if that ever happened and Hermione knew that they despised the early hours she tended to embrace. She wanted to go down to the common room and possibly read before the school day started, making the most of the peaceful state Hogwarts was currently in. There was no way that anyone else would be up this early and she liked to think of it as a birthday treat, getting Gryffindor Tower practically to herself.
Yet, as she walked down the staircase, she was greeted by the most magnificent of sights. A banner had been erected, handmade judging from appearance, and her two boys stood waiting. Matthew popped a small confetti cannon, with the confetti pieces magically swirling in the air and playing with her hair. Harry blew into a party horn, which, after the out of tune, ear-piercing noise it initially produced, started to play Happy Birthday to her. She beamed ecstatically at their presence, rushing over to hug them both at the same time. She gazed around their small corner of the common room. A cake was sitting on a large plate with candles burning away, and a few packages were set up on the sofa, including the one she was most interested in. All Hermione wanted to do was rip into it, but also knew that would be incredibly rude of her after they'd gone to such effort.
"You guys!" she exclaimed. "How long have you been awake to put this together?"
Matthew waved a dismissive hand. "Sleep is very much overrated anyway."
She rolled her eyes at his blaise attitude. She should have expected him to make a joke out of it. "This looks so wonderful. I'm sure that I don't remotely deserve it."
"Are you serious? You put up with us two every day for most of the year. You deserve to be treated like this every time you wake up, not just on your birthday."
Harry gestured to the magnificent cake that had caught her eye. "I had Dobby make this for you. He was only too happy to help with the festivities for someone who helped set him free."
"I don't know whether I'm comfortable eating a cake that was made by slave labour," she pointed out, even if it did look delicious.
"That's the best thing about it. I paid Dobby to make it. He's actually a great chef. The Malfoys never appreciated his culinary skills. I did have to practically fight him to accept a decent wage, but we got there in the end."
Hermione smiled gratefully, sitting on the sofa amongst the presents. She could tell that Matthew was nervous and her gaze kept wandering to the gift she'd already been shown. It was the furthest away from her, meaning she had to get through the others first and she had no doubt that he'd somehow planned it like that. The first gift she opened was the usual one sent from Hagrid and she feared what her dentist parents would think if she chose to take a bite. Her parents had managed to send her a present too, a new pyjama set in Gryffindor colours that she was slightly too embarrassed to show in front of the boys (they were definitely less conservative than she usually wore). She was confused when she found a third present waiting for her.
"Who is this from?" she wondered, weighing it up. Her eyes went wide when she read the note. "Ginny? Why would Ginny Weasley get me a present?"
"Well, you are her saviour," Matthew pointed out with a smirk. "That sort of thing could create some serious devotion. I think you have a fan ."
"That's utterly preposterous and I'll be telling her to send it back as soon as possible, even if it is…absolutely beautiful."
It was a book bag, larger than the one she currently had in use. She had just been complaining the other day about her books not fitting inside it, thanks to her overflowing schedule. Had Ginny somehow overheard? Or had one of the boys suggested it when she came asking for ideas? Their expressions were completely neutral, too calm for her liking, and that seemed to give her her answer. She put it to one side, making a note to thank the youngest Weasley later. Perhaps she was on the verge of getting a female friend at Hogwarts, which would be a lot different to the dynamic she had now. She loved the boys but there were definitely some topics she couldn't talk to them about.
Hermione moved onto the next object, the last thing standing in her way to Matthew's mysterious gift. It was a wrapped box and she let out a gasp upon seeing what lay hidden. It was a glass sphere holding a model of the solar system inside. She looked inside at all of its hidden intricacies.
"Harry," she murmured softly, breathlessly. "This is far too much. I spotted this in Diagon Alley and the price made my eyes water…"
"You don't need to think about the cost," Harry immediately assured her. "You know how little I think about money. I saw this, knew that you'd love it, so got it for you. That's all that matters."
"Thank you. So much."
It was time. There was one present left. The one she had been obsessing over ever since Matthew had shown it to her. She found that her hands were trembling slightly as she picked it up, which was incredibly silly over a present. But he was the one who had made a big deal about it, so surely it had to be something big. Despite wanting to rip the paper off as quickly as possible, Hermione took her time, meticulously saving the paper. Her heart pounded. The object was heavy and she already had an idea of what it could be, not that it helped answer any of her questions.
She looked down at a book, which wasn't that much of a surprise. Perhaps she had been expecting more though. It was old and rather tatty, with the edges frayed in plages and the spine looking like it had seen better days. It was a title she had never heard of, which intrigued her greatly. The Basis of Magic: Theories and Philosophies . A quick scan of the first few pages confirmed what its appearance screamed - it was incredibly old, borderline ancient and she wondered where Matthew could have possibly found such a relic. He was hovering close to, as if he were trying to gauge her reaction.
"It's out of print nowadays," he explained, wringing his hands nervously. "You won't find that in any bookstore. It's from my personal collection, which is why it looks like it does. I'm sorry about the condition."
"No, that's fine. It's just…not what I was expecting. The basis of magic…I remember us learning about the supposed origins of magic in First Year but this was never on the reading list."
"Well, the person who wrote it has been largely discredited but I think it's secretly…very enlightening. Some of the finer details, if you spot them, will say a lot."
He was giving her a pointed look, one that was going over Harry's head, who was unaware of the subtext of their conversation. She looked down at the book once more, not knowing how to feel about it. Why was he making this so hard for her? Was she just overthinking this? Or was he trying to set her a challenge, as if to prove that she deserved to know the truth about him? If so, that was a challenge she was more than ready to take on.
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Harry was eager to get to their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. The first two professors he'd been subjected to had fallen way below the mark. Quirrell had turned out to be a servant of the Dark Lord, and Lockhart was now a disgraced author after Dumbledore had revealed precisely why he'd be leaving the role. But Lupin felt different. He'd saved them after all, taking on the Dementor somehow. Harry still meant to ask how he had done exactly that. Hermione had mentioned something about a bright light but he wanted the specifics, knowing it could prove to be a useful skill if Sirius Black was actually set on searching for him, since he'd no doubt bring those creatures along with him.
He sat himself down in the front row, along with Matthew as they waited for Professor Lupin to arrive. The classroom was the same as the other years and yet felt different. That was likely down to the fact that there were no gurning photos of Gilderoy Lockhart smiling on every inch of wall anymore. They looked up as Hermione came in with the rest of the crowd, hurriedly tucking something underneath her shirt. She gave them a quick smile before setting her books and quills out neatly, preparing for the copious note taking she was bound to do. Matthew scrunched up his nose.
"There's that smell again," he complained. "What is that? I know I recognise it…but where from?"
Harry was confused. "I can't smell anything out of the ordinary. What does it even smell like?"
"It's…hard to explain but it's really bugging me because I know I know it from somewhere. Perhaps I'm just going insane."
"More than usual?" Hermione offered and he stook a tongue out at her.
Lupin came through the door, wearing the same scratty clothes as he'd been in the day they'd first met him on the train. He gently placed his worn briefcase onto the desk and smiled amiably at the expectant class.
"Good afternoon everyone," he greeted as he moved to the front of his desk. "You can put your books back in your bags. Sorry for the minor inconvenience. You'll just be needing your wands for today's lesson."
Immediately, the atmosphere in the classroom got more excited. Harry sat up straighter. He could count on one hand how many Defence classes he'd had where they'd properly used their wands, and they were starting the year with this. He watched intently as Lupin wandered over to a locked cupboard that had been propped up against the wall. It rattled ominously as he approached. The others on the front way shied away from it.
"Don't be afraid," Lupin reassured them. "Come, everyone stand up…form a nice arc around the cupboard…that's it. I'm going to cut to the chase. We've got a very special opportunity today to learn a vital lesson firsthand. I asked Professor Dumbledore personally to allow you to take care of this…issue the school has been having." He gestured to the piece of wooden furniture. "Inside here…is a boggart."
Most of the class began to murmur worriedly. Harry had no idea why it prompted such a big reaction. Neville Longbottom had gone ashen-faced. Ron Weasley made a small squeaking sound as he edged away from it. Even Matthew looked apprehensive, which was the biggest surprise.
Lupin appeared to have anticipated such a response, for he barely batted an eyelid. "Boggarts love dark, enclosed spaces, just like this cupboard it occupied a few days ago. First question we must ask though…what is a boggart?"
Hermione's hand shot up instantly. "A boggart is a shape-shifter. It's a creature that will change its form to match what you fear the most."
"Expertly put. So, we can safely assume that the boggart currently sitting in the darkness hasn't yet taken a form. It can't know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door the most. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when it's alone. It's an impossible feat. Once I open that door, it will assume the role of the most feared thing someone can think of. Which gives us one advantage that we must ensure we utilise. What is it?"
Harry was surprised to see his eyes land on him. Why had he so quickly picked him out of the crowd? "Um…wouldn't there being so many of us mean it won't know what shape to take?"
"I knew I could rely on you, Harry. He is, of course, correct. If you are ever in the position where facing a Boggart is strictly necessary, it is always best to do so with company. The boggart will rightly become confused. If someone is terrified of clowns, and the other is deathly afraid of rats…which one does it choose to become?" Lupin prowled the space between them and the cupboard. "The charm for repelling a boggart is thankfully simple and fairly easy to remember. But the difficult part of the task is having the force of mind to complete the spell. For what truly defeats a Boggart is not magic, but laughter. You have to force the creature to take on a form that you'll laugh at."
He stopped pacing, leaning against the wardrobe as it shook again. "I would say that I want to ask for a volunteer but I'm going to choose one instead. Hermione…I've heard a great deal about your talents. Would you care to take us through this?"
She stepped forward. Normally, she was great at reciting facts in front of the class, but this was demonstrating her actual magic, under pressure, facing a creature that fed on those exact fears. She spotted Matthew give her a slight thumbs up and she reminded herself to breathe.
Lupin smiled at her comfortingly. "The charm you'll need to remember is Riddikulus . Because whoever invented the spell didn't have much of an imagination. Have you got that?" He waited for her to nod her head. "Good. Now, stand directly in front of the doors…just like that, yes. Close your eyes. Picture what terrifies you the most and hold it so tight that it burns. You're going to weaponize that fear and turn it into your power. Do you understand? If you take one thing from this lesson, it should be that fears are a superpower if you know how to use them. Hermione…when the boggart emerges after I unlock the door in a few moment's time, you need to be prepared to take that fear and laugh at it. Have you figured out a way to do that yet?"
"I…think so," Hermione replied, trying to sound more assured and braver than she was actually feeling.
Harry watched on equally as nervous. He knew that Lupin would make everyone try the task, which meant he had to contend with whatever fear he ranked above the most. His immediate thought, understandably, was Lord Voldemort. He wondered how everyone would react to seeing the image of that evil wizard. He was also partly intrigued about what it would look like, since he'd only seen him on the back of Quirrell's head. But would old memories from when he was just one year old resurface and unlock the true form? He doubted he could fight that fear.
But then Harry started to think about what else frightened him to the same extent. And he began to remember the ear piercing scream he'd heard on the train…the cold, black hand…the sight of Matthew crumpling to the floor…someone so powerful and confident, better than him in every way, bested so easily. Harry had to admit that the dementor petrified him because he had been so helpless to do anything to stop it. He had beaten Voldemort three times already, that was practically simple now. But the floating creatures felt unstoppable in his mind.
"Are you ready?" Lupin asked Hermione, but Harry felt like he was asking him directly.
Was he ready? How could you possibly make a dementor funny ? But everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves. Hermione had a look of intense determination, which she always wore when faced with a difficult task. They'd retreated slightly to give her room to operate, leaving her isolated. Lupin had his wand ready, just in case, just as she did, trained on the door, waiting.
The lock cracked open and the doors always flew off their hinges. Hermione took a step back but steadied herself, her wand straight and focused. Through the dark, a recognisable face appeared as Professor McGonagall stepped out, her piercing eyes colder than they usually were and directed intently at the girl in front of her.
"I expected so much more than you," Boggart-McGonagall said scathingly, a look of utter disappointment lining her face.
Hermione shook her head and remembered what she'd been instructed. "Riddikulus!"
There was a sound like a crack whipping and then McGonagall was tap dancing in front of them, bouncing to a beat they couldn't hear. It was so absurd that the class began to laugh, with Hermione smiling in relief more than anything. Lupin clapped his hands once in appraisal.
"Excellent! Parvati, next!"
The class began to take it in turns one by one. McGonagall turned into a threatening mummy after another loud crack, which then got caught on a loose piece of bandage. Seamus faced a banshee that lost its voice. Dean Thomas caught a wandering hand in a spectacular mouse trap. Ron put a giant spider on roller skates. Then Matthew stepped forward. Harry was intrigued about this. What could possibly terrify the boy who acted like he was above such trivial matters? He half expected a dementor to appear for him too after the events on the train. But, as Matthew steadied himself and the boggart turned its confused expression onto him, it shifted into something he really hadn't been anticipating.
Matthew looked into the face of…himself. The class went silent, staring in fascination at the scene playing out. The boggart looked exactly like him. The same clothes, the same facial expression. His cloak didn't seem as tatty if anything, fewer holes that had been patched up. Matthew stared at himself with an unreadable look and Harry began to doubt that he could complete the task. Lupin looked like he was ready to intervene when Matthew lazily raised his wand and uttered a quiet riddikulus . The fake Matthew shifted in a whirlwind, the cloak becoming a vibrant pink, the pants turning an awful yellow. He looked to be slipping and floundering on an invisible patch of ice. Matthew smirked at the sight. His classmates, having usually seen him so perfect and assured, laughed (albeit slightly unsuredly) at him no longer being so refined.
The class were understandably focused on Matthew but Harry steadied himself for his turn, still trying to figure out how to make a dementor funny, when Lupin quickly stood in front of him to face the ire of the boggart. It turned into a golden globe for some reason before a final shout of Riddikulus sent it spinning like a burst balloon, the Boggart exploding into thousands of wispy pieces. The professor turned to face the students with a smile on his face, his eyes working hard to not land on Harry.
"Excellent, everyone! And that is how to take on a Boggart, if you're ever unlucky enough to come across one. Teamwork is crucial. Coming together and using your personal fears as a shield. I'm very proud of the work you've managed to do so early in the year. Enjoy an early finish as a little treat."
The students were obviously excited about that and were hurriedly leaving the classroom to make the most of the extra minutes. Harry frowned though, looking at Lupin, wondering why he had been the only one to be left out. He spotted Hermione, who was worriedly fussing over Matthew after what had happened with his Boggart. There were undoubtedly questions to be asked concerning that, but his friend looked in no way fit to face them, his skin slightly pale. Harry gestured discreetly to the professor and Hermione nodded her head in understanding, leading Matthew away.
He hovered awkwardly by the desks as Lupin began to tidy up, fiddling with the cupboard that the boggart had been living in. It was a few moments before he realised he wasn't alone and he jolted in surprise, clutching at his chest. With the state he always looked in, Harry feared he could have done some serious damage by scaring him.
"Harry, you startled me. Did you not fancy leaving with your peers? Not that I'm flattered that you want to spend more time with me, but I'd think a splendid day like today would be perfect for kids to enjoy. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"I just…had a question to ask."
Lupin leaned against his desk and stared at the young boy expectantly. "I'm all ears"
"Is there a reason why you didn't let me fight the boggart? Everyone else did but then you intervened before I got a go." Harry was fully aware of how petulant he was sounding and was now wishing he had chosen to leave instead."
"I would have thought that was obvious," Lupin answered breezily. "After what happened with your friend, Matthew, it reminded me that this process can be a delicate one depending on the subject. I fully suspected that, if you faced the boggart, we would then have to deal with an appearance from Lord Voldemort. And that would only cause quite a deal of panic."
Harry was taken aback. It was the last answer he had been expecting, even if it made sense. And the man had said Voldemort as if it was a name like every other, unlike most of the wizards Harry had come across. It was refreshing to hear, and endeared Harry to the new tutor.
"Oh…well…I wasn't actually thinking of Voldemort as it happens…I had the image of a dementor in my head."
Lupin nodded his head slowly. "Ah, that is perfectly understandable. Dreadful creatures, the lot of them. And definitely terrifying, so there's no judgement there. Probably a little tricky to get a laugh out of them, so maybe I made the right choice after all. Not that I'm questioning your abilities, Harry."
"I was wondering why they affected me so much. Why did I collapse? Hermione didn't. I haven't heard about anyone else fainting because of them." It had been eating away at Harry, the fear of having an inherent weakness.
"Your friend also collapsed, did he not? Is that not a reassurance that there is nothing wrong with you?"
"But Matthew's the strongest person I know," Harry countered. "If they have a power over him, then they must be dangerous."
Lupin sighed. "It has nothing to do with strength. The dementors affect you because you have suffered more horrors in your life than most of your classmates."
"So…if Matthew is affected…that means he's gone through something similar."
"I'm afraid that's something you'll have to take up with him, not me. You're in a perfect position to comfort one another though, sharing difficult pasts. "Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places and glory in decay and despair. They drain peace and happiness from the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a
Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something akin to itself. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. Both you and Matthew were forced to experience those experiences. It is no surprise that it overwhelmed you both."
Harry nodded his head in realisation. "When it happened, I heard a scream that no one else did. If that's coming from those memories, then I think it has to be my mum screaming." He said it almost emotionlessly, distancing himself from the pain.
Lupin flinched at his comment. He seemed to ponder putting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but thought better of it. "I suppose that is certainly feasible."
"I don't want to hear that noise again. On the train, you fought off the dementor on your own, using some sort of spell, Hermione reckoned. Can you teach me that spell?"
"That was only one dementor, making it much easier. I don't claim to be an expert on defending oneself against them."
"But it'd be really useful. I know that they're looking for Sirius Black and that, for some reason, I'm involved in that. So it's inevitable that I'll have to face them again. I'll need to know that spell."
Lupin accidentally nudged his briefcase off the desk at the mention of Black, just about managing to catch it before it landed on the floor. "What gives you the impression that Sirius Black is searching for you?"
Harry frowned. "I…didn't say that he was. Do you know something about him?"
The professor was saved from answering when the door to the classroom opened, and an unexpected figure glided in. Snape sneered at them both, carrying a smoking goblet. He placed it on the desk silently. Harry tried to get a glance of what was inside but Lupin was already moving it away.
"Ah, Severus. I'm glad and thankful that you've worked so efficiently."
Snape hummed. "I have taken the liberty of making a batch stock, to preempt any… relapses ." His black, beady eyes seemed to shine at the word. Harry wondered why. "You should drink that directly."
"Thank you." The level of gratitude in his voice didn't seem to reach Lupin's eyes.
Snape left without another word and Harry viewed it as one of the strangest encounters he'd ever witnessed. Harry looked expectantly at the older man, watching him drink the entire goblet in one. Lupin pulled a disgusted face.
"It's a shame that sugar would render it useless. I suppose you're wondering why I had to drink that. Boys your age are always curious about things like that. It isn't very interesting. It's a measure against a recurring condition I'm plagued with, one that shouldn't trouble you. All I have to do is take this and I'm perfectly fine, though I will probably grow weaker in the coming weeks. I'm extremely lucky that we have Professor Snape with us. I doubt many others would be able to tackle such a complex concoction."
Harry was slightly nervous about the look he'd seen on Snape's face and felt he had to give some sort of warning. "People say that Snape is very interested in the Dark Arts. They reckon…reckon he'd done anything for that job."
"Is that so?" Lupin didn't seem fussed. "Well, I'm afraid the potion has the effect of making me incredibly tired so I should probably have a nap, before I face the piles of essays I stupidly set. I hope you've been reassured about what happened in class."
"But…what about Black? What do you know? What spell can I use against the dementors?"
Lupin ran a hand across his forehead. "Perhaps, after I have recovered from these symptoms, we'll reconsider that proposition. I suppose it could come in useful. But only if it becomes strictly necessary. For now, remember what you learnt in class. The best defence you currently have is surrounding yourself with friends. Spend time with them instead of an old man like me."