𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃

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Defense Against the Dark Arts was… well, just that. A class built around teaching the young witches and wizards about various dangers in their world and how to fight against them. And yet, when Professor Remus Lupin walked in seven minutes late, shabby as ever, telling the class that the first lesson was a practical one, everyone seemed surprised.

Iris's unspoken question was answered by Theodore Nott, "We've never had a practical lesson for DADA before."

The once homeschooled teen seemed even more confused by such news, "Bit odd for a subject about defending oneself to not be entirely practical."

The boy just shrugged, "One teacher was a bumbling idiot and the other a mumbling coward. It was probably for the best."

Iris just blankly stared at the boy's head, her voice monotone as the lone word left her mouth, "Fantastic."

After a small class trip through the halls, a quick run-in with the resident Poltergeist, and a small act of magic by the newest professor, there they were. Outside the staffroom door, a place not one person in that class had ever been.

"Inside, please," said Lupin, opening the door and standing back to allow the class to begin piling in.

The staffroom was just a room, a rather ugly one, but a room nonetheless. Paneled and long, it was filled with old, mismatched furniture. And sat in one of the many chairs was, of course, Severus Snape.

Taking to the back of the room, along with Theodore, Iris's eyes locked onto the man. Watching as a sneer appeared around his mouth, his dark eyes carrying over the incoming crowd.

Sally-Ann, Valeria, and Tracey all appeared at Iris's empty side, Tracey's soft voice surprisingly being the first of the girls to speak, "You don't think he's planning on staying, do you?"

Theodore glanced up from digging through his book bag, brown eyes giving their Head of House a quick once over. Rolling his eyes, Theodore's bored tone answered the question, "Snape doesn't seem to ever voluntarily be around any of us," his eyes shifted to Tracey, "He'll be gone once the doorway clears out."

Returned to his bag, the teen had missed the raised eyebrows and shared glance between Valeria and Sally-Ann. Along with the blush over taking Tracey's face.

Iris, however, did catch the reactions, a smirk finding a way to her lips as she moved her attention to Professor Lupin getting ready to close the door.

"Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this," Snape said, finally standing from his seat. Black-robe billowing behind him, the man was just about to leave before stopping.

Turning on his heel, he, of course, couldn't leave without some sort of quip, "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."

Neville went scarlet as Snape then turned to lock eyes with his favorite student of the day. The one who happened to already be staring him down, her eyes just a bit brighter with all forms of trouble, "And Miss Blackwell's lack of discipline is becoming an ongoing problem," his cold gaze shot back to Lupin, "Perhaps you will be able to better reach her."

Lupin's eyebrows were raised as he considered the words. For a split second, he even seemed to fight a smile as he addresses the other professor's concern, "Well, Blackwell's have always been trouble; we should know that best. Having spent schooling years with two ourselves.

"And as for Neville, I was hoping that he would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"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 jerk, 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."

Iris gave out a sudden burst of quiet laughter, all the Slytherin's that seemed to hug the back wall all glancing at her as if she had grown three heads. And rightfully so, if the looks of terror from the students meant anything. Almost everyone seeming to agree that a "boggart" was, in fact, something to worry about.

Tired eyes seeming to come alight from the amusement of one and horror of many, Remus smiled to the class.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "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 Granger put up her hand, earning a faint scoff from Theodore's once empty side. The small group having been joined by Malfoy and his gang. And the scoff from Pansy Parkinson, quietly she muttered, "Always so eager to show off."

Iris rose an eyebrow at the girl but chose to remain silent about the quip.

"It's a shape-shifter," Hermione 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?"

Ever eager was Hermione as her hand shot into the air once more. The girl bobbing back and forth on the balls of her feet as her friend attempted to answer. She did make Parkinson's annoyance somewhat understandable.

"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 front of the class, the back being a stark contrast in how no one spoke up.

"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."

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 it appeared no noise had come out. And yet, the way Iris shifted and frowned caught the curious eye of Valeria. A look that would only turn more skeptical as Lupin pushed Neville to try again.

"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. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

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

Iris's eyes locked onto the professor at those words, bright and the blue flames flaring within them. She fought the incoming smile as she intently watched the interaction at the front of the class. An action that rose the eyebrows of her companions but at the same time spurred them to follow.

"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?"

Theodore, Valeria, and even Draco Malfoy all smirked as they seemingly caught on to wherever the teacher was heading with his questions.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

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 uncertainly, 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."

The class burst into laughter, everyone now aware of the situation, each of the students moving to catch a view. The wardrobe jerked even 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.

After all, how does one even go about knowing their greatest fear?

Is it the spider that you throw a whole fit over? Or perhaps it is less of a threat, like the jack in the box you saw in that one movie? That sure is the stuff of nightmares. Or maybe it is more of a concept, like death? But what thirteen-year-olds pay much thought to such things.

Which spurs the question more, what is possibly the worst that could come to mind for a group of teenagers? A group that, for the most part, hasn't experienced enough of the world to form fears beyond the common ones. A group that has only lived in times of peace.

You would think not much.

And yet the way a few faces in the crowd paled said otherwise. Some of these children had definitely seen enough to take a step back. To hide in the crowd and hope they weren't seen and called to face whatever was on their minds.

…

Iris was spurned from her train of thought by Sally-Ann, "How do I make Chucky funny?"

Sending a smile at the girl Iris answered without a second to think, "Put him in a top hat and make him do an Irish jig."

Sally-Ann laughed a bit at the image. Valeria, in contrast, cringed back, "Somehow, that just sounds scarier," shaking her head, she turned to Iris, "what's your fear?"

Iris shrugged, "Can't think of one. I'm sure it would come to me if I actually faced the boggart, though."

The girls nodded. "You should come upfront with me. I'm sure Lupin will only call on those that want to fight it," Sally-Ann suggested, dropping her bag on the ground next to Tracey.

Iris hummed as she thought for a moment, Theodore side-eyeing her as he warned, "You sure you should, considering what happened with the dementor?"

The others shared a questioning look, while Iris just shrugged. Dropping her bag, she smiled widely, "Aww, you do care somewhat," the boy rolled his eyes, "But trust me, the last emotion I felt towards that was fear, and I'm curious."

Sally-Ann joined at Iris's side, listening to Theodore's last comment, "When the boggart turns into a cat, don't come whining to me." A joke only Iris seemed to understand as she sent the boy a friendly glare.

~~~~~~

As the two girls situated themselves at the front of the crowd, Lupin sent them a polite smile. An unnoticed ounce of worry seeping in as he held his gaze on Iris.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Somehow everyone seemed both ready and also about to flee at the same time. Yet the volunteers rolled up their sleeves and nodded. Iris even going as far as slipping off her robe, folding it neatly as Lupin moved to begin the fun.

"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 —"

A circle-like area was formed in front of the wardrobe and Neville. Volunteers creating the edge, and the rest of the class taking to the back while still positioning themselves for a view, everyone engrossed in the events that would soon unfold.

Neville was pale and frightened, but he stood ready, his wand arm stiff and already half raised.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who stood beside a record player, 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 just as he set the player's needle down. The wardrobe bursting open to the sound of soft drums and trumpets. 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!"

Smiling, Iris hurried over towards Lupin, placing her robe neatly on the table, giving a quick, "Just had to add the music," making the man crack a smile her way.

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a blood-stained, 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.

Iris made her way back to her spot, grabbing her wand from the waistband of her jeans while doing so. Twirling it around a few times, Iris continued to watch as her classmates went. The noise levels getting higher with each change the boggart made.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was 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 that made Iris flinch back —

"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! Sally-Ann!"

Sally-Ann hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became the horror movie doll that was Chucky, which wasted no time attempting to charge Sally-Ann.

"Riddikulus!" Exclaimed Sally-Ann, her eyes a bit wide.

There was a snap, and the angry little man was suddenly stuck in a top hat and hurriedly doing a jig.

"Excellent! Iris, you next!"

Eyes dancing, Iris wasn't in a rush to swap in, taking slow steps as she positioned herself in front of the leprechaun-looking creature still in a hurried dance. And it was right there where time slowed and where the energy of the class faded.

Giving her wand one last twirl, the class quieted as they waited with bated breath to witness what the new girl feared. Valeria and Tracey joined at Sally-Ann's side, awaiting probably the most important thing they will know of their roommate. And most interestingly, Theodore Nott had moved to stand closer to the professor, gaining a perfect view.

And Iris… well, as Iris locked eyes with the boggart, the light in her eyes all but vanished. Replaced by regret.

The transformation happened slowly, almost as if taunting the girl whose arm had fallen slightly from the ready position. Almost as if adding that extra bit of suspense to make the final blow that much harder.

And that it did, for everyone.

For there wasn't a cat or a snake or even a dead body. No.

There stood a man, one that had far more control over the teen than anything else possibly could.

No one reacted, probably because they didn't know how. I mean, the man was just a man; he was normal. He had all his body parts. Didn't have the pearly white glow of a ghost. Didn't even hold any weapons. All he had was a particular look in his eyes, one on one could quite place in the moment.

And yet, he had caused Iris Blackwell to freeze. He had caused shallow breaths and a shaking arm. He even froze Remus Lupin in place, the professor looking as if he was staring at a ghost.

A ghost who had begun walking towards the girl.

Theodore Nott was the one to call out, the one to realize what was happening, "Blackwell, it's a boggart! Not him!"

Iris moved almost instinctively from there, snapping into action as her wand raised and flicked. The spell unsaid and yet just as good.

Crack!

The man was suddenly gone; in his place, a basketball fell to the ground, making its way towards Harry. Where the boy would quickly ready to fight it…

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

The basketball 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.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as 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.

Iris slowly and shakily made her way to the table where she left her robe, Theodore staring her down when she reached the space only a few feet from himself.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin, his gaze on Iris, who still stood frozen at the table as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. . . . Let me see . . . five points to every person 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," said 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."

Immediately Remus turned to Iris, carefully approaching her as the class trickled out. Stopping a few feet away, he watched as the students excitedly left. Only a few had noticed that the teen had still stood frozen. Word would get around quickly, but it was for the best that no one would see the extent of her condition.

However, four did hang around. The three roommates had huddled close and seemed to be undecided on whether to stay or leave. And then Theodore Nott, the boy interestingly, hadn't even seemed to have considered going as he had actually moved a few steps towards Iris from where he once stood.

As the door closed, Remus sighed, looking to the girls; he smiled, "It's probably best the three of you go," his eyes moved to Theodore, "Iris would most likely feel more at ease if it's just people who understand." The boy leaned against the arm of a chair, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Hesitantly the three girls moved out, finally allowing Remus to move to stand in front of the girl.

She was leaned over the table, eyes firmly shut. One hand clenched around the robe, another supporting her weight on the table. Her breathing was labored, short, rough, doing absolutely the bare minimum. Her entire body shook, the only movement coming from the girl who otherwise was stiff as could be.

Remus's smile was long gone, replaced by a deep frown, his eyes exhausted. Neither of the two took well to seeing the girl's boggart; that much was clear. Taking a moment to breathe and close his eyes as well, silence filled the room. The only noise that of the girl's struggling efforts to breathe.

…

"Mr. Nott," Remus turned to meet Theodore's blank eyes, "Could you go and explain to Madam Pomfrey the situation… see if she has anything to calm the mind. Ask for some chocolate as well…."

Wordlessly Theodore nodded, leaving behind the crumbling pair.

When he would return, Iris would be sat on the floor, head leaned against a leg of the table. Hand clenched around the arm of Remus Lupin, who could only sit helplessly as his mind drifted to memories of a time long in the past.

No tears left the girl's eyes. No. Instead, she mumbled an endless chant, "He wouldn't, he wouldn't… he wouldn't."

That time Theodore Nott chose not to hang around, leaving Madam Pomfrey and the incoming staff to deal with the situation. But he did manage to pick up Iris's bag before making his leave unnoticed.

~~~~~~

That night at dinner, Theodore sat alone, head in a book as he slowly worked away at his plate. His shadow unseen since the DADA class and presumably in the Hospital Wing, hidden away and out of the sight of prying eyes.

Her absence was only in a physical sense, though, as Iris Blackwell was talk of the school that night.

Well…

Her and the shape the boggart had taken.

After all, that man was an almost exact copy of the girl he had appeared for.