MALFOY DID NOT REAPPEAR IN CLASS UNTIL LATE ON THURSDAY MORNING, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harper's opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" Pansy simpered. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," Malfoy replied, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harper saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

That little git.

"Settle down, settle down," Professor Snape said and Harper could see Ron and Harry scowl at each other; Snape wouldn't have said 'settle down' if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was Head of Slytherin house, and generally favored his own students before all others.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table, which was the table behind Hermione and Harper.

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

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

As Harper glanced behind her, she could see Ron going brick red.

"There is nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked across the table.

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots towards him and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"Professor," Malfoy drawled and Harper knew nothing good was about to came out of his mouth, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

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

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But sir . . ."

Harper had seen Ron spending the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal piece and knew that he would be furious about giving his roots up.

"Now," Snape said in his most dangerous voice.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again.

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

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," Snape said, looking at Harry.

Harper sighed, feeling very irritated, and went back to skinning her own Shrivelfig but listened carefully to their conversation.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" she could hear Malfoy ask.

"None of your business." That was Ron.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," Malfoy continued, ignoring Ron. "Father's not very happy about my injury . . ."

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

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

"So that's why you're putting it on," Harry said. "To try and get Hagrid sacked."

"Well," Malfoy said, lowering his voice to a whisper so that Harper could barely hear him, "partly, Potter. But there are other benefits, too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."

Her attention was drawn by Neville, who was a few cauldrons away. He was in trouble, not that surprisingly since he regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was suppose to be a bright, acid green, had turned . . .

"Orange, Longbottom," Snape said, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears. Harper gritted her teeth and glared at Snape in anger.

"Please, sir," Hermione began from next to her, "please I could help Neville put it right . . ."

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happened. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly!"

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

"Hey, Harry," Seamus said as Harper continued with her potion, telling Hermione when Snape was far away so she could help Neville, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

At that news, Harper's head snapped up and she listened intently.

"Where?" Harry and Ron both asked.

"Not too far from here," Seamus replied, rather excitedly. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

Harper sighed in relief, so they hadn't got him yet.

"Not too far from here . . ." Ron spoke up. "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinning?"

Harpee glanced behind her and saw that Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on Harry. He leant across the table. "Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's right," Harry said offhandedly, making Harper sigh again and shook her head. If only he knew . . .

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

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

"What're you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron said roughly and Harper's eyes widened. Would Malfoy tell Harry it was Sirius' fault our parents were dead?

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

"Know what?"

Oh, Harry . . . maybe I should tell you the truth before you hear lies from someone else . . .

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

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

"What are you talking about?" Harry said angrily, but at that moment Snape called.

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now. This potion needs to stew before it can be drunk; clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's . . ."

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see. Harper followed Harry and Ron to pack away her unused ingredients and wash her hand and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

"What did Malfoy mean?" Harry muttered to the two of them. "Why would I want revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to me — yet."

This is it. I have to tell him.

"Harry—"

"He's making it up," Ron said, interrupting her, "he's trying to make you do something stupid . . ."

What if he doesn't believe me and goes after Sirius alone? What if he crossed paths with Dementors on his way? No . . . I couldn't tell him . . . yet.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather around," Snape said, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

Harper glared up at Snape as he picked up Trevor in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause as clasped Neville on the shoulder. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robes, poured a few drops on top of Trevor and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape said, which whipped the smiles of every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Harper, Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall while Ron was seething about Snape.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

"That wouldn't have changed a thing," Harper muttered.

"Where is she?" Ron said, looking around.

Harper turned, too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.

"She was right behind us," Ron said, frowning.

Malfoy passed them, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked at Harry and disappeared.

"There she is," Harry replied.

Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand was clutching her back, the other seemed the be tucking something down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" Ron asked.

"What?" Hermione asked, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, and next moment you were right back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked slightly confused. "Oh — I had to go back for something. Oh, no . . ."

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Harper wasn't surprised; she could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," Hermione replied breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But . . ." Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers, ". . . you haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh, yes," Hermione said vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added and she marched off towards the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked the Potter siblings.

• ✧ •

PROFESSOR LUPIN WASN'T THERE WHEN THEY arrived at his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Remus smiled vaguely and placed his briefcase, that Harper got for him two years ago, on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, making her sigh in relief.

"Good afternoon," he began. "Would you please put all your books back in your bag? Today's lesson will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as they put away their books. They had never had a practical Defence Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted the memorabel class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.

"Right then," Professor Lupin said, when everyone was ready, "if you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, they all got to their 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 mid-air 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 brok into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peever sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin . . ."

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect towards the teachers. They all looked quietly 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 in to 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 them over his shoulder. "Please watch closely." He raised his wand to shoulder height and pointed it at Peeves. 

"Waddiwasi!"

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves' left nostril; he whirled right way up and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" Dean said in amazement and Harper's chest almost exploded from the proudness she felt.

"Thank you, Dean," Professor Lupin said, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

They set off again, all looking at Professor Lupin with increased respect, something that made Harper even more proud than she already was. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staff-room door.

The staff room, a long, panelled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filled in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape spoke up. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

He got to his feet and strode pass them, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel. "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 and Harper laid her hand on his shoulder. "Don't let that man get to you, Neville, you are a great person. So what if you're not so good at Potions? I know for a fact that you're great at Herbology."

He smiled slightly, clearly touched by her words. "Thank you, Harper."

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," Professor Lupin said, raising his eyebrows, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

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

"Now, then," Professor Lupin said, beckoning the class towards the end of the room, where there was nothing except an old wardrobe in which 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. Harper had no idea what was in it, Remus hadn't told her a single thing and she was just as curious as the others.

"Nothing to worry about," Professor Lupin said calmly, as a few people jumped backwards in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

A Boggart? That's what he wanted us to face?

Harper quickly shoved her thoughts away and cleared her head. She trusted him, she always did, so why not now?

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," Professor Lupin said. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboard under sinks — I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock."

Harper shuddered as she relived the memory.

"This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice," he added. "So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Professor Lupin said 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," he explained. "This means that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Harper glanced at her brother, giving him an encouraging smile before he replied. "Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," Professor Lupin said. "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," he added, smiling slightly. "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!" they all said together.

"Good," Professor Lupin said. "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 was heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," Professor Lupin said. "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.

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

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

"No, no, you misunderstand me," Professor Lupin said, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled. "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?" Professor Lupin prompted.

"A big red one," Neville confirmed.

"Right then," Professor Lupin said. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," Neville said uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of his wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," Lupin said. "And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry Riddikulus — and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, that big red handbag."

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn," Professor Lupin said. "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 and Harper thought about what scared her most in the world. Losing the people I love. There were a lot of people that she loved; Dorcas, Remus, Hermione, Harry, the Weasleys . . .

Harry. He was the person Harper loved most, she realized. But what funny thing could I make out of him? What had made me laugh the most in my life? She smiled as she thought back at Halloween, a couple of years ago. She had decided to dress up as a werewolf to scare Remus. It had worked quite well. Her smile became a grin as she pictured Harry into the werewolf costume. No one would get it and that would be the best of it.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked and they all nodded, rolling up their sleeves.

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

They all retreated, backing against 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," Professor Lupin said, 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!" Neville squeaked.

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

There was a roar of laughter and the Boggart paused, confused.

"Parvati! Forward!" Professor Lupin shouted.

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 towards her, very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising . . ."

"Riddikulus!" Parvati cried.

A bandage unravelled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" Professor Lupin roared.

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 which made the hair on my head stand on end . . .

"Riddikulus!" Seamus shouted.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then — crack — became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before — crack — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" Lupin shouted. "We're getting there! Dean!"

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

"Riddikulus!" Dean yelled.

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

"Excellent! Ron, you're 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, Harper thought Ron had frozen. Then —

"Riddikulus!" Ron bellowed, and the spider's legs vanished. It rolled over and over; Lavender squealed and ran out of its way and it came to halt at Harper's feet.

It changed into Harry and at first, Harper didn't understand why she was afraid of it. That was until she saw the blood that streamed out of a rather big wound on his chest. After checking that Harry stood indeed next to her, she raised her wand.

"Riddikulus!"

There was a crack and Harry stumbled back, wearing her werewolf costume. Harper laughed, exchanged a glance with Remus, who was laughing too, before realizing that the Boggart had stopped in front of Harry.

"Here!" Professor Lupin shouted suddenly, hurting forward before Harry could do something.

Crack! The Boggart changed into a moon and Harper looked around to see if anyone noticed.

"Riddikulus!" Remus said, almost lazily.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" Lupin said, 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 we 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 whips of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" Professor Lupin cried, as they broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see . . . five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle to Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice — and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry spoke up.

"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."

Harper made her way over to Remus. "That was the best lesson I've ever had!" She exclaimed proudly and he smiled.

"I'm glad you liked it, munchkin, and it was good to see Harry in your Halloween costume."

Harper grinned before saying goodbye and walking over to Ron, Hermione and Harry.

"That was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" Ron said excitedly, as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

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

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

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December 27th 2023
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)