Chapter 8: Lee Jordan
When Harry entered the hall for breakfast the next day the first thing he noticed was that no one but him was at the Gryffindor table yet. He shrugged, sat down, and pulled out his spell book. He was currently looking at an interesting spell that was literally nothing but a blast of Light Magic, and would overload the senses on any dark wizard.
Harry supposed he could classify himself as grey only. He studied both dark and light, much to Lyra's amusement, and he found them both interesting. Magic was magic.
"Hey Harry," George said absently as he plopped himself down, leaning over to grab a piece of toast.
"Hey George," Harry said, hiding his smirk as George took a bite out of his jinxed piece of toast.
"Damn it," George cursed as his hair fell off, leaving him bald. "Harry!" he whined.
Harry gave a loud chuckle. "You'll need a hair growing potion." he smirked.
"Pranked oh brother of mine?" Fred asked, grinning hugely.
"Blimey Harry!" Ron said. "I can't believe you pranked them!"
"It's nothing," Harry waved his wand absentmindedly.
"What book are you reading?" Hermione asked.
Harry showed her the cover, titled MOST COMMON LIGHT AND DARK CURSES.
"Are you sure you should be studying dark magic, Harry?" Hermione asked. "A lot of the spells are banned for a reason."
"I'm not studying the bad ones," Harry shrugged.
"But this is way above your level!" she pressed. "You could get hurt!"
"Actually, I've attempted a few and succeeded," Harry told her, not paying attention enough to see the flash of jealousy in her eyes.
"Don't turn into a bookworm mate." Ron laughed at him, taking a large piece of sausage out of one of the platters.
"And what's wrong with studying a little Ronald?" Hermione asked, cuing the two to start bickering.
Ginny rolled her eyes at the bickering couple as she joined them.
"Those two arguing again," she muttered.
"Yeah." Dean yawned from across the table, not even noticing Seamus sit down next to him.
"You two spend the night playing with Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans again?" Harry asked.
"Yeah." Seamus grinned.
"They do what?" Ginny arched her eyebrow.
"Damn we have classes!" Harry exclaimed all of a sudden after checking his black and gold watch.
"Electives first for us." Hermione said, checking the schedule.
"Ancient Runes." Harry grinned. "You have that too Mione."
"Why would you take such a hard class, mate?" Ron asked. "Divination will be much easier."
"But I don't want to take an easy class." Harry stated as though it was obvious.
"Your loss." he muttered, walking away to Divination.
Harry made it to the class and sat down in the middle row next to Lyra and Susan.
"Why don't you sit with me Harry?" Hermione asked from the front row.
"Because I'm sitting with them." Harry shrugged.
"Are you sure?" she pressed. "I could help you study."
"Who said we can't?" Lyra spat.
Hermione glared at her before turning away with a flounce, right when the teacher entered.
"Hello!" she exclaimed. She was in her 30s maybe, with modest purple robes on. "I am Professor Bathshelda Babbling, and this is Ancient Runes 101. Now, will everyone pull out their copies of Rune Uses and Tablets?"
Harry pulled his book out.
"Good. Now everyone turn to page 6 and start memorizing the rune tables, which will push into homework. If you want you can try carving some of them, though not on any of the good quality stones. Maybe some rocks, but no marble."
Harry opened his book and started reading. It was interesting, how the runes worked. He pulled out a muggle notebook that was blue and started taking some notes on runes.
"That was an excellent class." Susan chirruped later.
"It was." Harry grinned. "Though how I'm going to memorize an entire page of beginner runes only Merlin knows."
"Lots of reading." Lyra grumbled.
The rest of the day went on well, and soon it was time for Harry's first Care of Magical Creatures Lesson. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.
Harry took Ron and Hermione to Draco, Hannah, and Dean, but they refused to hang with a Slytherin. Harry just shrugged when they tried to take him with them. Frankly, their anti Slytherin attitude was getting tiring.
Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.
"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called 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; Harry had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last him a lifetime. However, Hagrid 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 called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"
"How?" Draco drawled. "I've had to snap my book shut so it won't hurt me."
"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.
The class all shook their heads.
"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"
He took Hermione'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.
"Totally obvious." Theo Nott sneered.
Harry glared at him.
"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. Hang on..."
He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.
"He's going to ruin Hagrid's class." Harry grumbled.
"To be fair Hagrid tried to raise a dragon in a wooden hut." Draco pointed out, lounging near a tree with his hands in his pockets.
"But he's a good person!" Harry argued.
"He's naive." Draco shot back. "Slytherins will take advantage of that."
"You're a Slytherin." Dean shot back.
"I'm a good Slytherin." Draco stated, putting his hand on his heart and putting on an offended look.
"Is that even a thing?" Hannah smirked.
"Better than being a Gryffindork." Draco snapped.
"Ugh." Dean drawled. "Your arguments are so annoying."
"Are not!" the duo rounded on him simultaneously.
"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.
Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, 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. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.
"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"
Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black. He had read about them, but hadn't gotten to the pictures yet.
"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."
Harry was the only one to step forward, but he didn't mind. He thought it would be an amazing accomplishment to be friends with a hippogriff, plus if no one stepped forward it would embarrass Hagrid.
"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 yeh 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?"
Most of the class backed farther away in answer. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.
"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.
"I'll do it," said Harry.
"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."
He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. "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's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye. "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Harry...now, bow."
Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.
The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.
"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right - back away, now, Harry, easy does it -"
But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.
"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right - yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"
Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. Harry grinned widely. He did it!
"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"
This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick; but he wasn't sure a Hippogriff would be quite the same.
"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."
Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn't sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered with feathers.
"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.
Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred; the Hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of his Windstorm 50 he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the Hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.
Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.
Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Dean, Hannah, and Draco practiced on Buckbeak while Harry watched. Ron and Hermione took the chestnut.
Then, when Harry wasn't paying attention he heard a high pitched scream.
"AAGH!" Nott screamed on the ground, his arm sporting a long deep gouge from a black hippogriff named Witherwings.
"EEH!" Pansy Parkinson screeched. "Are you alright Theo?"
Harry noticed that the moment Draco had started hanging out with them she had gone from simpering over him to simpering over Nott. Lyra called her a golddigger, something that Susan had sniggered at.
"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me - gotta get him outta here -"
"He's not dying." Hannah scoffed as Hermione rushed to open the gate for Hagrid and Nott.
Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.
"They should sack him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.
"It was fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.
They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.
"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase.
"Ugh." Harry rolled his eyes before sauntering away to the usual classroom so he could test out his new spells. Hannah, Dean, and Draco went with him.
"Look at this one." he said, aiming his spell at the wall. "Incendio."
A thin stream of flame shot out of his wand to the wall.
"And?" Dean raised his eyebrow. "We've seen you do that before."
Harry smirked. "Incendio!" he said again, but this time instead of a thin stream of fire a large fireball burst out of his wand like a dragon's puff of flame.
"Damn." Draco whistled.
"I've been working on a stream with my power so that my spells will work differently." Harry explained.
"Onto other news." Draco drawled. "Nott's going to try and get Buckbeak killed. He'll want revenge, and he'll want to humiliate Hagrid."
"So how do we stop him?" Hannah asked, chewing on her bottom lip.
"I can talk to my father." he shrugged, "but it won't stop Nott from making a big deal out of it."
And indeed he did, but not in the way anyone expected. He came in on Thursday in Potions completely unharmed.
"Does it hurt?" Parkinson simpered.
"Nah." Nott waved her away. "It'll take more than a hippogriff to hurt me."
"You're so brave!" she cooed.
But no one noticed Nott staring at Lyra as he talked about how he was stronger than it. No one except for Professor Snape, his black eyes watching inquisitively as Harry laughed with Lyra when he prepared the Shrinking Solution.
"No!" she squealed. "You have to put the shrivelfig in after you the vampire blood!"
"Oops." his eyes sparkling with mirth that he used to see in Lily's eyes, laughed Potter. No. Not Potter. Harry. Lily's son.
Nearby, Longbottom's and Weasley's cauldron blew up, and he sighed. He supposed he should have expected it. What he was thinking, pairing those two together he wasn't sure, but it was better than any of those two and Crabbe and Goyle. Nearby he noticed Millicent Bulstrode growling at Crabbe as he stupidly stirred the cauldron in the wrong direction.
Idiots. At least some of his groups had been paired up properly. Draco had been teaching the muggleborn Thomas how to brew properly, so at least there were no explosions there. Finnigan and Greengrass were doing well too. He supposed the class wasn't as bad as it could have been.
It was time for their first DADA class. With an excited grin to Ron he walked in and took a seat next to him and Hermione, Dean and Seamus behind him.
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 tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, 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 class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.
"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 feet 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 toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.
"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 into his brooms."
Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, 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 raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.
With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing. Harry grinned. He hadn't read about that spell in his books; he would have to remember it.
"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.
"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"
They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.
"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.
The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. He sneered at them all and went out, his robes billowing behind him.
"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.
"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."
Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I've even 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 put up her hand.
"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. 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.
"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"
Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go.
"Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"
"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "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 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 practice the charm without wands first. After me, please...riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" said the class together.
"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in Neville. I thought that you could be my volunteer."
The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.
"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"
Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.
"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.
Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."
Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Harry hummed quietly. The fact that Snape was the scariest thing to Lupin was a very funny thing to him, but he shouldn't laugh. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.
"Professor Snape...hmmm...Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"
"Er - yes," said Neville nervously. "But - I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either."
"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"
Neville looked startled, but said, "Well...always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress...green, normally...and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."
"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.
"A big red one," said Neville.
"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.
"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "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, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."
There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.
"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "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..."
The room went quiet. Harry thought...What scared him most in the world?
His first thought was Lord Voldemort - a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before he had even started to plan a possible counterattack on a Boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image came floating to the surface of his mind...
A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak...a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth...then a cold so penetrating it felt like drowning...his head cracking
Harry shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Ron was muttering to himself, "Take its legs off." Harry was sure he knew what that was about. Ron's greatest fear was spiders.
"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.
Harry gave a small grin. He could turn the dementor's cloak bright pink, and make his face that of a bunny.
"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "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, backed against the walls, 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," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One - two - three - now!"
A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's 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! " squeaked Neville.
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 paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"
Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising -
"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.
A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.
"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.
Seamus darted past Parvati.
Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floorlength 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 that made the hair on Harry's head stand on end - "Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.
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!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"
Dean hurried forward.
Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.
"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.
There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.
"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, Harry 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 he saw Lupin hurry forward to block it and Harry sent a muttered tripping jinx on him and stepped forward.
A dementor, it's breath rasping and rattling in front of him. A cold grey had reached out and Harry felt like he was drowning. Mustering up his strength, "Riddikulus!" he said, and the dementor turned into a hot pink cloak.
"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as he got up and the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.
"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.
"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone...Let me see...five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice...and five each to Hermione and Harry."
"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me...to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."
Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. Harry, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. Why had Professor Lupin tried to stop him from meeting his boggart?
But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.
"Did you see me take that banshee?" shouted Seamus.
"And the hand!" said Dean, waving his own around.
"And Snape in that hat!"
"And my mummy!"
"I wonder what Professor Lupin's frightened of?" Lavender asked thoughtfully.
"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.
"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart -"
"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"
Harry snickered with Ron before going off to the library to research the Patronus Charm. If dementors were going to affect him that much he was going to learn how to stop them.
As time went on DADA became everyone's favorite class, and COMC had become boring. Harry had taken to sitting down with Hagrid and working with him on lesson plans to keep the classes safe and fun. The classes had gotten better after that, though Harry was increasing his reading time to find new animals that Hagrid could teach them about. Currently they had gone back to hippogriffs, but with more safety measures.
Draco's father had managed to strike down Lord Nott's proposition to have Buckbeak killed, and Nott had been in a snappish mood for a while. Harry payed it no heed however, because Quidditch was arriving! The team captain, Oliver Wood, was an amazing Quidditch fanatic and he was giving a speech at the moment.
"This is our last chance - my last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."
"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best - ruddy - team - in - the - school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."
Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.
"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."
"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.
"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought.
"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.
"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.
"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."
Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.
"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.
"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.
"Definitely," said Harry.
Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish Harry's wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup.
Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.
"What's happened?", he asked Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.
"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."
"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."
Harry grinned. He, Fred, and George were planning on sneaking Ginny into Hogsmeade to plot at Zonko's for a big prank with Lee Jordan. Suffice to say, it involved Professor McGonagall's underpants, Mrs. Norris, catnip, and some furry pink stockings.
The plan was simple. Harry would take her up to the one eyed witch with a hump in her back where there lay a passage to Honeydukes, and smuggle Ginny in with his invisibility cloak. Once there Fred and George would put notice me not charms on her so nobody but them would see her. Then, they would get to plotting and buy what they needed for the prank.
"Come on." Harry motioned to Ginny, and she crept into the passage.
"I'll meet you at Honeydukes!" she said.
Harry hurried out and into a carriage with the twins, Lyra, Dean, and Blaise, the last three of whom were laughing at a joke the Twins had cracked. When the ride was over they rushed to Honeydukes and found Ginny near the assigned area of Cockroach Clusters. Whipping the Invisibility Cloak off her they cast the charms and soon nobody noticed her but them.
"Come on!" she squealed, rushing into Zonkos.
"Let's go over the plan." Fred grinned.
"We will sneak into McGonagall's sleeping place." George said.
"Using my Invisibility Cloak." Harry added.
"We'll add catnip to all her undergarments." Fred said.
"Then we'll run away." George finished.
"Meanwhile, I'll be with a stunned Mrs. Norris so she can't contact Filch." Ginny smirked.
"I'll be with her and the Marauder's Map." Harry plotted.
"We'll add a crazy attraction charm to catnip, though cat's already like that." Ginny told them.
"While I keep watch." Harry finished.
"The next day will be ARMAGEDDON!" Lee cackled from behind, scaring the hell out of them all.
"Don't do that!" Ginny screeched, smacking poor Lee as he winced.
"And then at the prescribed time the charm will wear off and smoke will enter the sky." Harry stated in an ominous voice.
"The Marauders and the Hogwarts Pranksters." George prescribed across the sky.
"Plus the girl!" Ginny reminded.
"Never forget the girl." Lee shook his head solemnly.
"Come on." Harry grinned. "We have to get the catnip, while I write down McGonagall's schedule."
"How did you find that out Harry?" Fred asked.
"I followed where she went on the Map for about a month. Tomorrow evening when we go to plant the catnip she won't be anywhere near her office until midnight, and the job should be done by ten." Harry explained.
"Our little Padawan." Fred wiped away a mock tear.
"All grown up!" George finished.
"And ready to hex you two prats." Harry threatened.
"Relax." Lee laughed. "Harry, don't you have to meet with Lyra, Luna, and Draco so you can explore Honeydukes?"
"Yes!" Harry cheered, bounding off to the sweetshop. "Wait." he paused. "Ginny, keep the cloak so you can get back to Hogwarts. Just place it in my dorm." and then he rushed off.
By the time he came back to Hogwarts he was loaded with Sugar Quills, Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, and many other delicious sweets. He had tricked Draco into trying an Acid Pop but had been given donkey's ears for that; they still hadn't worn away. Lyra had laughed at him for that, while Luna had stole his Bertie Bott's.
They had visited Dervish and Banges for some more ink, and gone to Three Broomsticks for butterbeer: a warm frothy drink that Harry loved.
"Come on!" Lyra squealed. "The Halloween Feast!"
Luna bounced in, hyped on sugar, and the rest followed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.
Harry was surrounded by Dean, Seamus, Lee, Ginny, Fred, and George, while Ron and Hermione bickered about something Scabbers and Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, did. The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.
Harry played a tinier prank for fun where he made Snape's hair look like it was shampooed, and put up his usual Marauders sign. To his surprise, not only did Snape glare at him, albeit less venomous than he used to, but Lupin also looked at him curiously.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.
"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.
Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.
"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy -"
And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."
People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.
"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.
A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.
"Oh, my -" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.
The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.
"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.
It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry. Harry let out a small groan. Peeves was on good terms with all pranksters including him, but he also showed up at any sign of trouble.
"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.
"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
Harry couldn't concentrate. Couldn't pay attention. He was completely zoned out until Lyra found him, slapped him awake, and then plopped him into a sleeping bag in a circle of his friends. Lyra, Draco, Luna, Fred, George, Daphne, Blaise, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Susan, and Hannah were all with him.
"What was that?" Blaise asked, his violet eyes flashing with curiosity.
"Sirius Black just tried to get into Gryffindor Tower to kill me." Harry stated plainly. "He got into Hogwarts. How am I supposed to be safe if he can get into Hogwarts?"
"Lights out!" Percy yelled above all the noise. "Stop talking!"
"Swot." Draco rolled his eyes at him.
Harry stifled a laugh.
"Harry." he heard Hermione's bossy voice behind him. "Why can't you join my and Ron? It will be safer."
"What's unsafe about where I am?" Harry asked.
Hermione flushed but Harry could see her glaring at Draco, Lyra, Blaise, and Daphne, all of whom were sending cool smirks at her in their sleeping bags.
Hermione sent a glare at them and flounced off. Harry rolled his eyes and went back to his sleeping bag. Honestly, just because they were Slytherins didn't mean they were going to kill him. That bias was getting old and unnecessary.
"So how do you think he got in?" Daphne asked, her ice blue eyes showing no emotion.
"He couldn't have apparated." Blaise reasoned.
"Or flown." Susan brought up.
"How would he fly past the dementors though?" Hannah asked.
"I'm just glad he didn't succeed." Lyra sighed. "I would hate if someone died."
"Harry wouldn't die. The pifflepuffs would protect him."
"So I have protection?" Harry asked.
"Yes, but only from a basic killing curse and other situations that extend your life Unfortunately, it's gone now." Luna told him. "Like the dementors on the train: you would have gotten the kiss but instead the pifflepuffs protected you, dying in the process."
Harry thought about that as they all lay down to go to bed. Luna's creatures usually were thanks to her version of the Sight, but what did the Pifflepuffs represent? Harry drifted off to sleep as he thought about it.
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Ernie MacMillan, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub. Susan had laughed at him for that and beaten down every reason he had to think such a thing, much to his embarrassment and Harry's amusement.
The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.
"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"
"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."
Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Harry's worries. He was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, and Percy Weasley (acting, Harry suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry into her office, with such a somber expression on her face Harry thought someone must have died.
Harry suspected what she wanted to talk about, and beat her to it. "Professor!" he interrupted her as she started. "I already know that Sirius Black is out to get me. I asked Ginny. I did research too, and I know that he's my godfather. Don't worry about it."
She gave him a severe glare. "Then surely you can see my need to stop your quidditch practices for safety!" she reprimanded him.
Harry gaped. She couldn't stop quidditch! "Can't Madame Hooch watch us?" he asked desperately.
She gave him a last piercing look before nodding and dismissing him; he ran out quickly. The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, right before the game Wood came to them with unwelcome news.
"We're not playing Slytherin! We're playing Hufflepuff!"
"Did they back out?" Fred asked angrily.
"No!" he exploded. "Since the weather's going to be so bad Hooch put up a sign up sheet for the next game in case any other house wants to play and Hufflepuff signed up!"
"That's great." Harry said dryly. "Just great Oliver."
"Cedric Diggory is too strong a player to have not trained Hufflepuff properly." Katie Bell frowned.
We'll just practice harder." Fred said determinedly.
"We better." Oliver growled.
The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit.
"I'm so sorry about this." Lyra had apologized. "Flint really didn't want to play, the coward."
"It's alright." Harry waved her off with a grin.
"Still…" the blond chaser trailed off.
"It's fine." Harry promised. "Now check out this new spell I found!"
Harry turned to face the empty ground. "Thyrsus!"
They watched as a pointed metal spike quickly shot out of the hard ground before retreating just as quick as it had come.
"Damn." Lyra commented, impressed.
"Yeah." Harry laughed. "Amazing battle spell, and it would have been really useful against the basilisk.
"So what did you think of the last DADA class?" Lyra asked, referring to the class where Professor Snape substituted for Professor Lupin.
"Pretty interesting." Harry commented. "I thought the learning about werewolves was really fascinating."
"Me too." she grinned. "It was a pity Professor Lupin couldn't teach it."