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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔 *•. ┄┄

𝒉𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒗𝒔. 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔: 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒏?

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After a really boring week and eventful Potions class on Thursday—that included Drarry bickering, Sirius talk, Potion helpers, snide remarks, and Hermione scoffing a lot, she found herself in a broom closet in order to turn back in time. After a really cool and interesting Ancient Runes class, Hermione met up with Harry and Ron as they were walking to lunch.

"There she is," she heard Harry say.

Hermione was panting slightly as she hurried towards them.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione innocently, joining them.

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

"I dropped something, Ronald. You guys are just too far up your own arses and didn't notice," Hermione told them and they went red in the face while she properly closed her bag—that although being light wasn't that big on the inside.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her eyeing her books as she quickly closed her bag.

"Lots of subjects," said Hermione simply. "Good God, I'm starving."

She groaned and grabbed both their arms, pulling the boys with her into the Great Hall. They sat down next to Dean and Seamus and started filling up their plates.

"Can I ask something?" she asked the guys around her randomly and they all looked at her, "Why is it that someone is half-blood if their parents are pureblood and a muggle-born? Technically they're pureblood, right? Because a muggle-born is still a wizard, not a muggle."

The four boys around her stared at her blankly, until Dean spoke up, "That's an actual good question. I mean, both wizard parents, no muggles, should give purebloods."

"What?" Ron simply asked.

"And why do we call muggles, muggles?" Hermione continued to ask, "Why not, no-majs like in the USA, or mundane, or something. Why muggles?"

"It sounds like a mug," Seamus said nodding, and Hermione gave him a look in agreement.

"Right?" Hermione asked, "Better yet. Why don't they have movies in the wizarding world?"

"What?" Ron asked blankly and Hermione pointed at him as if proving a point.

"See? This is what happens. They don't even know what a beautiful creation, movies are," Hermione said promptly waving her hands around, "I mean have you watched Back to the Future?"

"That is such a great movie," Seamus nods.

"Better than magic, I reckon," Dean agreed as Hermione nodded along, "magic doesn't have hoverboards."

"It has brooms though," Harry pointed out and they all consented to him that.

Meanwhile, Ron was looking utterly confused.

"Huh. It does have brooms. . . ." Hermione said quizzically.

Afterward, they had DADA. Hermione, Harry, and Ron waited for Professor Lupin. The latter showed up after a while and led the class to the staff room, h a closet shaking in the middle of it. All the way there Hermione totally missed out on the way Lupin eyed her with a frown. She was glancing at the pictures, hands stuffed in her leather jacket and mumbling a song under her breath.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape — who was inside—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. Hermione and Harry 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 Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

"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 looked around the class and as no one raised their hands, she sighed and raised hers. "Shape-shifters that turn into your worst fear."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin looking curiously at Hermione. "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. "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 a 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, including Hermione who put a hand on Neville's shoulder reassuringly. Even Neville grinned apologetically. 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 uncertain, 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. And Hermione started wondering what her worst fear might be. Her first thought was bugs, but that couldn't be it. She knew it would be something deeper than that. But if the class went according to the book, she wouldn't even have to fight a boggart just yet.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin. "Neville, we're going to back away. 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. Big-nosed, greasy-haired, 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. Hermione grabbed her camera and quickly took a picture while laughing her arse off.

There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, as after many persons and many shallow fears, Crack!

Quite a few people screamed—including Hermione who felt a shiver up her spine. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly.

"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 —

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack! The legless spider 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. Then Lupin told Neville to finish him off and Hermione sighed in relief knowing that she wouldn't have to face one just yet.

"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."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry as Hermione muttered, "Take the points and shut it."

"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."

They all left class yapping about. . . . well, class. Hermione noticed the frown on Harry's face so, she looped her arms through his and Ron's and led them to the common room sitting them down on the sofa.

"I have an announcement!" she said, grinning at them, "I want to learn how to ride a broomstick!"

She grinned and Harry grinned back, while Ron burst into laughter.

"You—a—broomstick—learning—Ha!" He said in between laughs making Harry glance awkwardly between the two as Hermione's eyes narrowed at Ron.

"Yes. Me," she said sternly making Ron sober up a bit, "I think I'll be quite good, actually."

"Stick with books Hermione," Ron told her and she glared at him and turned to Harry.

"Can you help me?" She asked him.

"Yeah, of course," Harry beamed and Hermione smiled.

"Great!"

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