Johnny didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He stumbled into the dungeon, his right arm in bandages. He looked worse than when Hermione had visited him in the evenings. He was very pale, with black bags under his eyes.

"How is it, Johnny?" Hermione asked as Johnny sat next to her. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Johnny, grimacing as he moved his bag off his shoulder.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said 'settle down' if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Johnny had always been able to get away with things in Snape's classes; Snape was head of Slytherin House, and generally favored his own students above all others.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Johnny set up his cauldron next to Hermione and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table.

"S-Sir," Johnny called, clutching the edge of the table to keep his balance, "I-I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots --"

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

Ron went brick red.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Johnny.

"Oh of course there is!" Hermione said, taking over Ron's job. "Look at him! You can see the blood still coming from his arm!"

Ron grumbled and seized the knife back from Hermione, pulled Johnny's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"P-Professor," drawled Johnny, "Ron's mutilating my roots."

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 Johnny, Weasley."

"But, sir --!"

Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.

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

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

"Seen Hagrid lately?" Johnny asked them quietly, skinning his shrivelfig.

"None of your business," said Ron jerkily, without looking up.

"I'm afraid he might not be a teacher much longer," said Johnny. "Draco came to see me. His father's not very happy about an animal attacking his son and me getting the injury --"

"Since when were you and Malfoy all friendly," snarled Ron.

"-Lucius Malfoy complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic --"

"So that's why you're putting it on," said Harry, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger, "To try to get Hagrid fired."

"Harry, what the fuck?" Johnny said, undoing the blood stained bandages from his arm. "Does this look I'm faking? And why would I want Hagrid fired? He's one of my best friends!"

"Yeah, uh, sorry," Harry mumbled taking note of the open wound on Johnny's arm as Hermione helped him redo the bandaging, scolding Johnny as she did so.

A few cauldrons away, Neville was in trouble. Neville 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 supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned --

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat 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.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, as she finished Johnny's bandage, "please, I could help Neville put it right --"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape 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 happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

"Hey, Johnny," said Seamus, leaning over to borrow Johnny's brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning -- they reckon your Dad's been sighted."

"Where?" said Johnny, Harry and Ron quickly in unison.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "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."

"Not too far from here..." Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry and Johnny. He turned around and saw Draco watching closely. "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?"

But Draco's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on Harry and Johnny. He leaned across the table.

"Thinking of trying to catch Grindelwald single-handed?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Harry offhandedly.

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 good boys."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.

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?" said Johnny angrily, slamming his good hand on the table, 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, so 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. Johnny, Harry and Ron packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

"What did Malfoy mean?" Harry muttered to Ron and Johnny as he stuck his hands under the icy jet that poured from the gargoyle's mouth "Why would I want revenge on your father? He hasn't done anything to me -- yet."

"I don't know, mate," Johnny said, trying to think of the conversation with Remus before term.

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

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

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, 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."

The Gryffindors and Johnny watched fearfully. The other Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad 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 and Johnny burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

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

"There they are," said Harry.

Hermione and Johnny were panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs, Johnny stuffing something under his shirt.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione, as they joined them.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were 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.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked them, noticing a familiar bulge of books in Johnny's bag.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermione breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you? Not you, darling, your arm isn't good."

"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 Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," said Hermione 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 toward the Great Hall.

"What're you and Hermione not telling us?" Ron asked Johnny.

"Don't worry."

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense 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. 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 Lockhart 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 in to his brooms."

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.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean 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. 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 said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "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. Johnny glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville 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 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 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 and Johnny raced to put their hands up.

"Johnny?"

"It's a shape-shifter," Johnny said smugly, looking at Hermione. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Johnny's smirk widened. "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?"

"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."

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, except from Hermione and Johnny who gave Neville sympathetic looks. 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. Johnny thought...What scared him most in the world?

His first thought was 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....

His father, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, showing Voldemort's mark on his left arm. In his left hand, he held a knife, in his right hand he was dragging a passed out Hermione. Johnny 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."

Johnny was sure he knew what that was about. Ron's greatest fear was spiders.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Johnny felt a lurch of fear. He wasn't ready. How could you make a father murdering his girlfriend less frightening? But he didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

"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.

"Johnny!" roared Professor Lupin.

Johnny walked past Parvati, his face even more pale than what it was this morning.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a man with neat hair and he was well dressed. The image in front of Johnny was exactly what he had seen. His father grinned maliciously at him, holding a silver knife to Hermione's neck.

"Pretty little thing you've got here," the Boggart spoke, frightening Johnny and the class. "I never wanted my son to fall for a Mudblood! But it was my own fault, for marrying that bitch and having you in the first place!"

Tears threatened to spill out of Johnny's eyes as he raised his wand.

"R-R-Riddikulus!" Johnny yelled, but the Boggart didn't change.

"Look at you!" Boggart-Jakob yelled. "You're pathetic! You're weak! You're my biggest regret!"

"Don't hurt her!" Johnny yelled, collapsing to his knees as he forgot that this a Boggart.

Johnny hardly ever cried, not even as a baby, but he did now. He sobbed into his hands as his father yelled insults to him.

Crack!

Johnny looked up to see Hermione had pushed to the front. The Boggart was now Professor McGonagall with failed test papers in her hand, but neither Johnny or Hermione was listening to the Boggart as Hermione lifted him and Professor Lupin gave them permission to leave.

"You're okay, you're okay," Hermione reassured him as sweat and tears rolled freely down Johnny's face. Many heads turned to face Johnny as Hermione led him to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Lay down on the sofa," Hermione whispered softly in his ear. Johnny nodded weakly and followed her orders.

Hermione came back a minute later and sat on the edge of the sofa next to Johnny, placing a cloth and a bowl of water on the table. She undone his Slytherin tie and placed it on the table floor, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of Johnny's shirt so he could breath easier..

Hermione dampened the cloth and slowly ran it across Johnny's forehead, trying to cool him down.

"You're okay," Hermione whispered, placing the cloth back down on the table, now running her hand through Johnny's messy hair. "I promise, darling."

"Cuddle me," Johnny said weakly. Hermione nodded and gently laid down on Johnny, gently placing her head on Johnny's chest. Johnny kissed her lips, then her forehead, and then her nose, letting out a sigh of content as he rested his head back on the sofa.

"I love you," Hermione whispered, stroking Johnny's chin with her thumb.

"I love you too."