Despite Poppy Pomfrey’s best
efforts to rid herself of the little oik, Draco
Malfoy remained in the Hospital Wing until
much later in the week. Amelia, who was
delighted to discover that he had not deigned to take her class, had rather a
good week in between cheering up Hagrid and listening to Hermione grumble.

She’d noticed her cousin become
crabbier as the week wore on, despite her enthusiasm for her new subjects,
leading Amelia to check upon time-travel related
problems in the Library. By all accounts, except for exhaustion, she was
satisfied that Hermione would be alright using her time-turner, always assuming
that she kept her common sense.

It was Thursday afternoon when Amelia
found herself sitting in a cold and silent staff room, peacefully reading across
from an equally cold and silent Severus
Snape. They’d exchanged pleasantries, of
course, as colleagues do: Amelia with a smile, Severus
with a sneer. The room had since lapsed into that dusty silence found in
libraries, museums and staffrooms, punctuated only by the turning of pages and
the distant sound of children learning (or at the very least, being taught at).
It was a long, panelled room full of old, mismatched chairs, most of which,
she’d quickly discovered, were not in the least bit comfortable.

Amelia
had just finished her most recent chapter and had been about to stretch when
the door opened quite abruptly.

Remus strode in, closely followed
by a bemused but intrigued third-year class, Hermione among them. Both Amelia
and Snape looked up as they filed in; Hermione gave Amelia
a small smile whilst Snape sneered in Remus’s direction.

As Lupin made to close the door
Snape rose, saying “Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.” He
strode past the class, his black robes billowing out 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; most of the
class were now glaring at Snape. Amelia felt her
mouth fall open in shock and disapproval; surely the man couldn’t be this rude
to his students!

Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

“I was hoping that Neville would
assist me with the first stage of the operation,” he said, “and I’m sure he’ll
perform it admirably.” Just like his Mum and Dad would have, you pernicious
bastard, he thought.

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

Lupin turned to Amelia,
who was still frowning in a disapproving manner.

“We won’t be long, Miss
Brown, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, Professor, this
promises to be most informative.” She gave Neville a heartening wink as Lupin
nodded and continued.

“Now then,” he said, beckoning
the class to the front of the room, where there was nothing except an old
wardrobe in which the teachers kept their spare robes. As Lupin went to stand
next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

“Nothing to worry about,” said
Lupin calmly, as a few people jumped backwards in alarm. “There’s a boggart in
there.”

Most of the students seemed to
feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave his teacher a
look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnegan
eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively; Amelia,
none the wiser, leaned forward in interest.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed
spaces,” said 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 put up her hand.

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

“Couldn’t have put it better
myself,” said 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,” he continued, choosing
to ignore Neville’s small splutter of terror, “that we have a huge advantage
over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Hermione, desperate to answer
another question was bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand
high in the air. Amelia smiled slightly, her
cousin’s excitement appeared to be putting Harry
off to some extent, but he had a go.

“Er – because there are so many
of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?”

“Precisely,” said 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. What
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 force it to do is
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 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 forwards as if he were heading to the
gallows.

“Right, Neville,” said Lupin.
“First thing’s first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most
in the world”

Neville’s lips moved, but no
sound came out.

“Didn’t catch that Neville,
sorry,” said 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. 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 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 Lupin.

“A big red one,” said Neville.

“Right then,” said Lupin. “Can
you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your
mind’s eye?”

“Yes,” said Neville, 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, 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 attentions to each of us in turn,” he 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 as the class
concentrated upon its fears; Amelia could feel a
lot of fright in the room, but also a lot of laughter brewing. A wave of horror
touched her and she shifted her attention to Harry,
who shivered. She could only imagine the darkness he’d seen in his short life.
Suddenly, she hoped that the Boggart would not turn its attentions to Hermione,
or there would be a few more truths (and a good few more nightmares) out in the
open than there needed to be…

“Everybody ready?” Lupin asked.
“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, backing
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. Amelia smiled to herself, there
was a lot of fight in this outwardly timid boy.

“On the count of three, Neville,”
said 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 Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and
menacing, Professor Snape
stepped out, his eyes flashing at the boy before him.

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 swinging a huge crimson handbag from
his hand.

There was a roar of laughter; the
Boggart paused, confused, and 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 blood-stained, bandaged mummy; it’s sightless face was turned to Parvati and
it began to walk towards her, very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms
rising –

“Riddikulus!” cried Parvati.

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

“Seamus!”
roared Lupin.

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 the back of Amelia’s
neck stand on end –

“Riddikulus!” shouted Seamus.

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

Crack! The banshee became
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! 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!” yelled Dean.

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

“Excellent! Ron,
you 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 Harry
thought Ron had frozen. Then –

“Riddikulus!” bellowed Ron,
and the spider’s legs vanished. It rolled over and over; Lavendar
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 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.

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 spilt 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.

“Excellent!” cried Lupin, as the
class broke into applause. “Excellent, Neville. 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 Harry and
Hermione.”

“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 summarise it for me… to be handed in on
Monday. That will be all.”

As the class filed out,
chattering excitedly, Amelia went to retrieve
her book, which had fallen behind her chair when Ron’s
spider had made its appearance.

“I think that went rather well,”
said Lupin, examining the now Boggart-free wardrobe.

“It was pretty cool,” smiled Amelia.
“Though I was relieved that you stopped Harry
having a go.” Hermione too, for that matter. “I wouldn’t like to
speculate on what that Boggart would have become if it had gotten to him.”

“No, well, precisely,” said
Lupin, a little absently. “I rather assumed that it would take the form of Lord
Voldemort – not the sort of thing a class
full of third-years ought to see in their first week back.

“Your cousin’s bright,” he said,
closing the wardrobe and looking up at the witch.

Amelia
nodded, “And apparently as much of an academic show-off as I used to be…”

The corners of Remus’s mouth
twitched upwards, “I can well imagine.”

“Oy!” she returned, playfully.
“I’ll have you know that seven years of state schooling beat it out of me; you
won’t catch me raising my hand anymore unless it’s important.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I used to be just the same, you
know. Spent a lot of time in the Library, avoiding that ‘beating’ you
mentioned… although here it was generally a ‘hexing’ instead.”

“I was library monitor for three
years, voluntarily.”

“It seems we’ve established equal
standing in the geekiness stakes then,” Remus said, his smile growing.

“So it would appear.”

There was one of those odd pauses
that people new to one another sometimes experience.

“So, tell me about Boggarts,” Amelia
said, breaking the slightly awkward silence. “What happens to them when they
vanish? Do they die? How do they get into the dark spaces if they’re so
agoraphobic? How do they reproduce?”

Remus raised his hands at the
onslaught as he took a seat near to the wardrobe.

“One at a time, please!”

Amelia
chuckled, “Sorry, this is all new and exciting to me.”

“Fair enough. Now, Boggarts are
probably responsible for the bogey-man myth that Muggle fiction references so
often…”

0o0o0o0

They spent a pleasant hour
discussing the magical origins of various Muggle myths before departing for
dinner.

Both Remus and Amelia
had a hard job keeping straight faces as they passed Severus,
who scowled unpleasantly at them. Amelia noticed
that a good portion of the Gryffindor table were shooting him furtive looks and
snickering.

Clearly, word had spread around
the castle rapidly as Pomona Sprout instantly cornered her to substantiate the
rumour. She and Remus spent a hysterical ten minutes regaling Pomona,
Poppy Pomfrey and Filius Flitwick
with the tale of Severus and Black Lace, before the five of
them, red-faced and breathless, joined the rest of the staff at the high table.
As Pomona surreptitiously (or at least what she imagined was surreptitiously)
spread the story further a-field, even Minerva was having a hard time
maintaining a straight face; Hagrid was sniggering behind an enormous
handkerchief and Dumbledore periodically snorted into his dinner.

Desperate to maintain some
semblance of responsibility amongst the staff, Amelia
desperately tried to keep a lid on her mirth, and just about managed this until
pudding was served and she caught Hermione’s eye across the hall. The younger
witch used that silent form of communication that the two of them occasionally
shared, and an image from Amelia’s childhood
resurfaced, unbidden, from the depths of Disney’s Lion King.
Eyes widening, she clapped a hand to her mouth to unsuccessfully stifle the
‘coughing fit’ that this produced. When Remus finally managed to get coherent
words out of her, all she could manage was “What do you want me to do? Dress in
Drag and do the Hula?” before she dissolved into another bout of giggles.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione
was faring little better and had grabbed the sleeve of a bewildered Ron
and hissed “Live bait! Luau! If you're hungry for a hunk of fat and juicy meat,
eat my buddy Pumba here because he is a treat! Come on down and dine on this
tasty swine – all you have to do is get in line!” before she too was beyond
hope.