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He was late, he realized. But not by much. He went to his office and grabbed his briefcase more out of habit and comfort than necessity. Then he proceeded into the classroom.
The students had been talking, but they fell silent when he entered. He set his things on the desk, smiling, and noting the books, quills, and parchment the students had ready, said, "Good afternoon. Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."
He waited a few seconds as the excitement in the room rose up, and everyone obeyed his request. When it became obvious they were all ready to go, he said, "Right then, if you’d follow me."
He started down the hallway. His step faltered only slightly as he spotted Peeves up ahead. How that little man could manage to be everywhere… He left off this line of thought as he wondered how to handle the upcoming situation. He almost veered off into a different hallway, but remembered his new resolve to shape himself, and he continued steadfastly down the corridor.
Peeves was busy stuffing his wad of gum into the keyhole, and didn’t look up until he had gotten very close. Then he raised his head and grinned breaking immediately into song.
"Loony, loopy Lupin, looney loopy Lupin…" It rang over and over again.
He was aware of the students’ eyes upon him, and he maintained his smile.
There was no reason to assume Peeves had any ill-will towards him, so Lupin decided on a pleasant approach. "I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves. Mr. Filch won’t be able to get in to his brooms."
Peeves merely blew him another raspberry, and continued his song.
Lupin sighed. He glanced at his students and suddenly inspired by the flash of red Weasley hair, he pulled out his wand and said, "This is a useful little spell. Please watch closely."
Raising his wand to the correct height, he snapped out the spell and pointed it at Peeves, who was zooming away leaving curses behind a minute later as the chewing gum had shot up his nose.
"Cool, sir!" Exclaimed Dean Thomas.
"Thank you, Dean," He said putting away his wand. "Shall we proceed?"
The students followed him in silence and he hoped that the class would continue to be so successful. He’d stolen a few glances in Harry’s direction, but couldn’t tell what his mood had been from the guarded expression that he seemed to maintain on his face.
Once they reached the correct door, he opened it, directed them in and waited for everyone to enter. He noticed Snape sitting in the room, and wondered momentarily if the potion was already done, but quickly squashed that thought as he surmised that it had to simmer for a while. Snape was probably just taking an innocent break for a quick snack as he hadn’t eaten at lunch. Maybe if they spent some time together, things would improve between them. He went to close the door, choosing to ignore the sneer hovering on Snape’s mouth, but before he could, Snape spoke. "Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this."
He rose and started out, but turned at the doorway and continued, "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."
Lupin felt his eyebrows shoot up. He knew that Snape was sometimes harsh and abrasive, but this seemed to be crossing the line. Lupin had known Neville’s parents, and he knew about Neville’s clumsiness. Mr. And Mrs. Longbottom had been a powerful and talented couple, so he attributed this blundering of Neville’s more to self consciousness than lack of talent. However, he simply said "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably."
He waited for the retribution to come, but Snape just sneered as he shut the door with a snap.
Lupin waited just half a second as he took in Neville’s hot face, blushing scarlet, and decided to get on with the lesson. "Now then." He said beckoning them all towards the end of the room. He had been about to say something encouraging to Neville, but thought better of it, and stepped towards the wardrobe instead. The boggart inside sensing his presence gave a jump that made the cupboard wobble.
A few people had jumped backwards, no doubt, alarmed about the possibility of a few dozen Cornish pixies being encased and waiting to rush out to wreak their revenge. He felt this jest on the tip of his tongue before he bit it back and simply said, "Nothing to worry about, there’s a boggart in there."
Neville looked at him in pure terror, and Lupin continued calmly "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces, 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?" Lupin’s well prepared lesson started flowing, and he finally felt natural with the class.
Hermione was quick, and she put her hand up and deftly listed off the qualities of the sneaky shapeshifters that live off fear.
"Couldn’t have put it better myself," he answered her. "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."
Neville gave a small sputter, a sound full of dread. He quickly scanned the class. They were listening to what he was saying, certainly, but would any of them apply the meaning of the words any further than the boggart? It was such a perfect analogy to the inner turmoil that everyone faced. And I, have I assumed my true shape yet? He thought. What do I look like when I’m alone. Not putting on a face for the world. Not showing Dumbledore my steadfast determination to conquer. Not showing Snape my resolve to continue despite what he will throw at me. Not showing the students a mild, but capable teacher and role model. Not showing the world a meek and mild person. Am I what I would like to be? He hoped they would understand.
Continuing and ignoring Neville’s whimpers he said, "This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin." He’d hoped to get Harry to answer a question, and have an excuse to forego the boggart, so after his brief explanation of the boggart’s behavior, he decided to put him on the spot, and directed the next question to him. "Have you spotted it, Harry?"
Harry shifted a bit glancing disconcernadly at Hermione who was eagerly bouncing up and down with her hand in the air. Lupin ignored her however and watched Harry, who had decided to give it a go, and returned, "Er - because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?"
"Precisely, 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 continued talking about boggarts and the repelling charm, but his mind wandered over the students he saw before him. Did they understand the message? Be yourself. You can’t be different for different people. What if they get together one day? You’ll end up not knowing who to be. Not impressive, not intimidating, not even remotely frightening. What will they do? They’ll laugh. They’ll disregard you. You’ll be as nothing.
After he’d had them practice the charm for a bit, he continued, "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 boggart took that opportunity to intimidate the students again as it shook the wardrobe imprisoning it. It could smell their fear. It was feeding off it. He gestured Neville forward, and was pleased to see that he came forward, though it looked as if he would rather be running out of the room. The boy was brave enough in his own right. He just needed some confidence.
"Right, Neville, First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?" Lupin realized he was speaking in a somewhat businesslike tone and when Neville could not do more than open and close his mouth, he realized he needed to instill some of this confidence in him. He responded cheerfully "Didn’t catch that, Neville, sorry."
Neville looked around as though he was pleading for someone to save him, or to tell Lupin what he could not. But no one supplied either, and he finally said almost inaudibly "Professor Snape."
Laughter rang out. Lupin was regarding him thoughtfully. Snape was his worst fear? Poor boy. Yet, Lupin almost shared that conviction. Snape could do a lot of damage. How in the world should he help the boy find a less intimidating, funny version of this malicious instructor? Aloud he said, "Professor Snape…" anything done with him was sure to bring retribution from the noxious man, "Hmm…" In that case the memory would have to be big enough to help sustain the boy through whatever fallout would come his way. And idea flashed into his mind and he ran with it before he could reason otherwise. "Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"
"Er - yes," the boy answered nervously "But - I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either."
Lupin couldn’t suppress the smile and quickly assured him "No, no, you misunderstand me. I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"
He was prepared to hear Neville’s answer including the green dress and vulture topped hat as he knew Mrs. Longbottom. Though they were not close acquaintances, he was familiar with her apparel. After he prompted, Neville even admitted to a handbag, and the scene was set.
"Right then, can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind’s eye?"
"Yes," Neville said without much conviction.
"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape. And you will raise you 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."
Everyone laughed, and the boggart doubled it’s efforts to get at them while it could still sense their fear. "If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," Lupin quickly instructed them. "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…"
He looked directly at Harry, and tried to discern what was going through his mind. Was he thinking of Voldemort? He’d certainly lived through Voldemort’s attack under the influence of the dementor on the train. What could be worse in his life than that? He’d faced that horror not just once, but three times already. He didn’t want to deny Harry the chance to learn and grow, but he feared the consequences of Harry’s fear blossoming out of the boggart in front of the whole class. He wasn’t even sure how to begin making Voldemort funny. He wasn’t sure that anyone could. If the boggart found a shape that everyone feared, it would feast on their fear until they were left senseless and babbling, unable to fend it off. Boggarts could be dangerous.
He saw the shiver pass through Harry, and decided that he would have to intervene if it came to it. Harry was towards the back with Hermione. Most of the students would be able to have a turn, and hopefully the class would run out of time before they got that far back, making his intervention either unnecessary or unnoticeable.
He got his students’ attention with a "Everyone ready?" No one shouted out, so he continued, "Neville, we’re going to back away. Let you have a clear field all right? I’ll call the next person forward…" And keep Harry out of the picture he mentally added. "Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot -"
Everyone retreated, leaving Neville alone, still frightened, but he pushed up the sleeves of his robes, and held his wand at the ready.
"On the count of three, Neville," Lupin said pointing his own wand at the wardrobe handle. "One - two - three - now!" And he blasted the door open for a menacing Snape to stride out.
Neville went speechless once again, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. The boggart was almost upon him when he finally managed to squeak out the spell. Lupin breathed a sigh of relief as the crack of the boggart assuming Mrs. Longbottom’s garments sounded through the room. The students roared appreciatively as the boggart stumbled on the lace and paused.
Lupin barked "Parvati! Forward!"
She walked forward resolutely. The boggart Snape turned and cracked into a blood stained mummy. Her spell unwound it’s bandages, and Lupin roared out "Seamus!" A banshee emerged, followed by a rat, a rattlesnake, a bloody eyeball.
Lupin cried "It’s confused! We’re getting there! Dean!"
When Dean’s severed hand was conquered with a mousetrap, he called Ron forward. The giant spider that materialized caught quite a few people off guard, and it seemed to have caught Ron off guard as well. Just before Lupin was ready to interject, Ron shouted out the spell and the spider’s legs disappeared, causing the round body to fall and roll across the floor towards Harry. Lupin froze as Lavender Brown ran out of the way squealing, but when the spider halted at Harry’s feet, and Harry raised his wand, he was galvanized into action.
Leaping forward, he shouted, "Here!" The boggart cracked and for a second seemed to have disappeared. But Lupin saw it hanging lazily near the ceiling, a full white orb. He lazily recited the spell causing the boggart to fall towards the nearest student, cracking into a cockroach.
"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" he shouted.
Neville charged towards the Boggart Snape a newfound look of determination on his face. "Riddikulus!" he shouted and the boggart cracked into the granny garb once more as Neville let out a great "Ha!" the laughter was too much for the boggart which burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.
"Excellent!" Lupin cried through the 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," Harry protested.
"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of class, Harry." Lupin lightly explained. "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." Lupin was rather pleased how the class had turned out. The third-year Gryffindors were more than up to the task, and had beautifully mastered the spell. They were all chattering excitedly about their personal triumphs as they left the room.
All except Harry. He’d looked slightly chagrined Lupin realized. Too late, he understood that Harry probably suspected that he thought him unable to take on the boggart. He felt sorry that he hadn’t caught Harry’s tone, and the warning of his protest, but he didn’t see how he could’ve let the boggart assume that shape. He decided he’d speak to Harry about it later, if it seemed to be bothering the boy. After all, he told himself, not everyone needs the approval of others as you so desperately seem to. Harry’s probably way beyond that self-basing behavior.
When they were all gone Lupin sent the restoration charm at the boggart which had merely dispersed itself across the room, waiting for a chance to re-form and flee. The boggart materialized again, floating up high, a pale full moon. Lupin advanced on it with his wand and forced it back into the cupboard to stay for his next class.
The story of Neville’s boggart spread so quickly through the school, that Lupin wondered if the whole student body hadn’t been watching that lesson.
He suffered some ribbing from the other staff members who sent suggestive threats his way about turning them into objects of ridicule during his classes. He usually responded with a raised eyebrow and a poignant look that said all too clearly, "If you bully my students into fearing you, beware!" But just to keep things cordial, he always followed that up with a wink and a smile.
His next third year class wasn’t until the following day when the Hufflepuffs faced the boggart and though a few of them quailed under its visions, most were able to successfully perform the charm. Lupin was delighted with their success, and handed out points and compliments as fast as the students were able to step up for their turn. .
Next class, the Ravenclaws had their turn at the boggart and pulled off the task rather spectacularly.
The Slytherins were last. and it was the first belligerent class he had. Draco Malfoy’s bad manners having run unchecked in their first meeting, continued. Lupin dealt with his sneers and comments the same way he’d dealt with them in his life. He ignored them.
"You would think that the Professors could at least dress decently if they’re going to be on staff here." He was sneering to Crabbe and Goyle as they chose their seats. "This school should maintain a certain image when so many of the elite attend it."
Goyle chuckled appreciatively as Crabbe kept an eye on Lupin. He merely breezed past them however, and asked the class to put their books away and follow him for a practical lesson.
This quieted most of the students as they hadn’t yet experienced a practical lesson in this subject before. Excitement and apprehension filled most of their faces as they lined up and filed behind him to the staff room. Malfoy evidently didn’t have anything disparaging to say about this as he remained silent, and cradling his bandaged arm on the way.
When they entered the room and shut the door, he directed their attention to the closet which had started to wobble and bang.
"Don’t worry," he said as several girls whimpered "It’s just a boggart."
"Oh…just" Malfoy drawled. "I suppose that’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a dark creature. And here I am with an injury that could prevent me from defending myself! First vicious hippogriffs, then dangerous dark creatures!" He raised his bandaged arm from its sling and gave it a feeble wave. "I’ll probably end up fighting for my life. My wand will be of little use to me in this state."
Lupin frowned until the tittering stopped and then said mildly "Not if you know the right spell to ward it off, Mr. Malfoy." Malfoy flinched obviously not realizing that he would know his name the first day. "Who can tell me about a boggart?" Lupin continued.
A hand tentatively raised and the lesson proceeded without further interruption. Treat them with respect, and they’ll treat you the same. Lupin thought. These children were like the others, and they needed calm and steady role-models to help them when they were faced with choices in life. He found himself trying harder with the Slytherin classes, and he didn’t know if it was because he’d been a Gryffindor, or if it was Snape’s influence on them.
The boggart was successfully dealt with as class went on and student after student shouted the spell and forced it’s shape to become comical. First there was a rat that turned into a furry ball, then to a bat, that became wingless and flat like a Frisbee, a vampire appeared only to have marshmallows replace his teeth, and then a snake started slithering across the floor. He started a little. Since this was the Slytherin class he hadn’t expected to see this fear, and a lot of the students burst into laughter as the pale and rather small girl who was facing the snake stood shakily holding her wand out trying to say the charm, but only able to mouth the words. She reminded Lupin of Neville during his first lesson, and he wondered how she’d gotten into Slytherin.
Malfoy, who was next in line, jumped forward and forgetting his arm, pushed the girl snarling, "Come on stupid, it’s Riddikulus."
Before Lupin could say anything to him about this, she squeaked out the spell and managed to make the snake eat it’s tail so she could laugh nervously, and the class continued.
Malfoy almost strutted forward, but shrunk back the next minute as a Muggle household filled the room. His father appeared standing to one side as he stared at Draco with a look of pure venom. He cleared his throat and croaked the spell to make the muggles all squirm on the ground as if they were under the Cruciatius Curse. His father started to sneer, and Draco laughing boldly stood aside for Crabbe and Goyle to take their turns. After whom, they had all had a turn, and Lupin asked Blaise Zabini to finish off the boggart, which popped into it’s smoky wisps as they all laughed and streamed out into the hallway for their next lesson.
All in all, it had been a good lesson, he reflected. The students had done better than he’d hoped they would for their first day, though some of their fears had puzzled him.
Snape didn’t speak to him for a week, and he was starting to wonder whether or not he’d forgotten about the wolfsbane potion. Or if he’d poisoned it. But one day as he sat comfortably in the staff room, Snape banged through the door with a smoking goblet in his hands. He set it rather roughly on the table and snapped, "Here, Lupin. Your trial run has begun. I trust that this first batch will be strong enough. But if you find that you need more, feel free to come to me."
The words by themselves were courteous, but the tone they were delivered in, left Lupin shivering inside. He took in Snape’s heaving chest, white face and glittering eyes. This was the first time they’d been alone since that confrontation in the hallway, and the first time he’d spoken to him since the boggart. He smiled blandly, and gestured towards the empty chairs. "Won’t you join me?" he asked. "I really appreciate your help and expertise, Professor Snape. I am looking forward to the opportunity to try this new treatment."
Snape raised his head and glanced obliquely at Lupin. "I have other things to attend to, Lupin. You should drink that now." He turned to go, and then stopped. Lupin watched warily as he slowly turned back, and strode up to him leaning on the chair so that he hovered inches above Lupin’s face. "One other thing," he hissed, "If I ever hear of you making a spectacle of me again in your class,…you will rue the day." His teeth clenched and he continued "Wishing you had never been born will only begin to describe the sentiments that you’ll be spewing."
Lupin sat still and bridled all the retorts that came to mind about bullying students. He said instead, "Snape, I have never set out to ridicule you, now, or ever. If something is bothering you about my behavior, by all means come to me about it. However, I feel inclined to tell you, that no one meant you any harm that day, or ever." He felt the pleading in his eyes reaching out to this man for a truce. A truce for the boggart, and a truce for that day back in their fifth year, when he’d almost become the monster he feared.
Snape continued to glare at him though he backed off a bit before furtively saying, "Spout your lies, elsewhere Lupin. I will continue to monitor your behavior. I will have you out!" he turned again to go and paused at the doorway long enough to say, "One way, or another." Before disappearing down the hallway.
Lupin paused as he raised the cup to his lips, wondering again if it was safe. But, he was at Snape’s mercy. He had to have this potion. It was supposed to help him retain his will and curb his emotions. Though it did nothing for his transformations, he could keep his own mind, and curl up in his office a harmless wolf. The moon was waxing full, and he needed to start drinking the concoction and working out the best schedule.
He took a deep breath, and gulped a mouthful. Almost immediately his eyes stung and filled with tears, and he felt as though he were going to retch. The taste was quite repulsive. His gag reflex was in full gear and he put his hand over his mouth to repress it. After a minute, he looked warily at the contents of the still full smoking goblet. Did it really have to taste this bad?
He gulped another mouthful, and again had to pause in order to stifle the instinctive heaving. He shuddered and managed to trace and focus on the liquid as it slid coldly down into his stomach. Resolving to gulp it all down, he tried valiantly to take more than one swallow, without success. The potion was just too repulsive. It took him a full half hour to empty the goblet in gasping gulps and heaving swallows, the tears from his watering eyes flowing down his cheeks. When it was done he lay on the floor on all fours heaving and gulping air, his eyes streaming, and blinking rapidly, trying to keep the dizzying stars from his vision.
He had a moment of panic when he seemed to have gone blind, but then the room came back into view, fuzzy at first, but focusing slowly. He hauled himself upright by grasping the table and pulling himself up the leg. Several quick, short breaths gave him his head back, and he was able to steady himself and then stand on his own.
He had just recovered enough to wipe his face dry, and start back to his room, when Professor McGonagall came into the staff room. A smile broke out on her face as she saw him, and said warmly, "Well, Lupin, how are you coming along with your classes?"
He started a little, and she looked at him a bit closer, "Are you all right?" She asked quickly, peering at his strained, reddened eyes, and sliding down his shaking form.
"Yes, I" he stopped and tried again as her shrewd eyes took in his pale face and the goblet on the table. "Yes, its just the potion. I think I’ll go lie down for a bit, and maybe skip dinner." He finished lamely.
"Do you need me to accompany you to the hospital wing?" She asked briskly.
"No, thank you" He smiled warmly at her, "I’m just going to lie down in my office for a bit. I’m fine really."
She still looked unconvinced, but let him pass her and set out to the hallway towards his office. He was grateful to have gotten away, as the nausea was returning quite forcefully. He willed himself to keep it down, and concentrate on how wonderful it would be to be able to keep his own mind when he transformed this month. He might never again be forced to bear the anguish of those violent and savage thoughts, he mused as he lay down on his bed.
A voice entered his mind again echoing a familiar chorus of "Too bad. Too bad. Too bad." But this time, he applied the meaning to his most recent thought, and smiled.
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