Chapter 14 - The Boggart
Harry and Theo ran through the Hogwarts Express, the rest following in their wake as they disappeared into a compartment at the very back of the train. Harry’s head popped out of the door as he waved them towards him.
“Who is that?” Pansy asked, sneering. Hermione followed her line of sight, finding a very shabby looking man asleep in the corner of their compartment.
“Professor R. J. Lupin,” Hermione recited, finding his embossed trunk in the holding area.
“Must be the new Defence professor,” mused Harry, “he can’t be worse than the last two, but he does look a little worse for wear.”
“Worse for wear? He looks like he’s been sleeping on the street!” hissed Theo. Harry shrugged and flopped onto the seat opposite him. Hermione sat gingerly next to the professor, but when he didn’t wake, she relaxed into the seat, pulling her book from her bag, as the boys turned to talk about quidditch.
As the sky had started to darken out the windows, the train screeched to a halt. “We can’t be there yet,” Hermione murmured, as Draco opened the door to peer down the corridor.
“Why is it so cold?” shivered Daphne. She was right, the temperature had dropped at least 10 degrees, and her breath was coming out in clouds. A faint rattling was coming from a few cars down, but seemed to be moving closer.
As Blaise reached to close the door to their compartment, he froze at the sudden appearance of a huge black figure. Hermione’s stomach dropped, she had never seen anything like it before. Before she could make sense of anything, Harry was screaming and slumped out of his seat onto the floor. The professor next to her jolted awake, shouting something as a large silvery animal shot from his wand, chasing the figure away.
“Harry, Harry!” the man loomed over him, shaking Harry back to consciousness. “Here eat this,” he handed him a large chunk of chocolate. “The rest of you should eat some too,” he broke off smaller pieces for the rest of them, passing them out in silence.
“What was that thing?” asked Harry quietly.
“A dementor,” he answered and popped a piece of chocolate in his own mouth. Everyone around her gasped, except for Harry who blinked in confusion. Upon seeing his face, Lupin clarified, “They are dark creatures who prey upon emotions, they feed on happiness. That one,” he indicated where the dementor had disappeared, “must have been looking for Sirius Black.” He stood, “Now if you’ll excuse me I must go have a word with the driver.” And he left, taking his trunk with him.
“Woah, dementors away from Azkaban?” Draco asked.
“If I never see one again, it’ll be too soon,” Theo shuddered. The last hour of the train ride was subdued as the group pulled on their school robes and ate their chocolate. Hermione was still reeling. She’d never felt as hopeless as she had when the dementor had entered their compartment. And even though it had been gone, she was struggling to find purpose for the rest of their night, wanting to curl up and stay there for several hours. Attending a loud feast was the absolute last thing she wanted to be doing.
As they walked through the Entrance Hall, Hermione could see a cluster of Gryffindors near the hourglasses of gemstones. Harry dropped back, and at her questioning gaze held up a finger. She crossed her arms and waited as Harry walked over to a red-haired girl standing at the center of the group, pulling her off to the side. She rolled her eyes when Ginny giggled and smacked Harry’s shoulder, but when she took her eyes off them, she saw something significantly more problematic than the bad flirting of a second year. Ron Weasley had seen Harry Potter talking to his sister and was stalking toward them.
“Hey let’s have some fun!,” she whispered to Draco, pointing at Ron. He smirked and strutted towards the angry redhead, Greg and Vincent flanking him. Ron had also grown, over the summer it seemed, he and Draco now stood eye to eye, flinging insults at one another. Draco smirkied while Ron’s face grew more purple with every minute.
She looked around, catching Neville’s eye, and waved. He smiled at her, before turning back to his friends. Just then Harry came up beside her, exchanging a look with Theo, before he pulled her into the Great Hall for the feast.
-
Hermione clutched her schedule, Professor Snape had actually laughed at her when she asked to take every class. When he realized she wasn’t joking, he had said no, offering no room for discussion. She had settled on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, writing off Muggle Studies, seeing no need for it, and Divination, thinking that the sight wasn’t something you could be taught. She knew Draco and Harry were both taking Care of Magical Creatures with Pansy, Vince, and Greg, but didn’t see Magical Creatures in her future, knowing many of the things they’d be taught she could read for herself. Theo had chosen the same classes she had and Draco had joined them in Arithmancy, while Daphne picked Runes. Blaise had chosen both Muggle Studies and Divination, and argued that he had the best chance of meeting a witch who’d put up with him in one of these courses. Hermione had rolled her eyes at this, smirking.
“Well, I’m not taking either one so where does that leave me?” she asked playfully, putting on a fake pout. Blaise had winked at her while Draco’s goblet shattered, splattering him with pumpkin juice. Theo sniggered at him, standing to walk with Hermione and Daphne to Ancient Runes.
The first few days of classes went well, she loved her Arithmancy class, having always liked math in primary school. But as Thursday came and the Slytherins had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Hermione’s week took a turn.
“Come on!” she urged Theo, not wanting to be late for their new professor. She didn’t think Lupin would be quite as forgiving as Lockhart, although it’d be difficult to be a worse teacher.
“Books away and wands out!” Lupin called once everyone had been seated. There was a murmuring amongst the students, they hadn’t yet had a practical lesson, unless you count the horrid pixie class last year, which she didn’t.
“That’s right, follow me now,” he called and left the classroom, leading them into another large room, empty except for one large trunk set near the front of the room. The student crowded into the room, keeping a healthy distance from the trunk. It was rattling ominously, and she exchanged nervous looks with Harry.
“Now can anyone tell me what a Boggart is?” asked the professor. Hermione waited three breaths before raising her hand. When the older wizard inclined his head to her she answered.
“A Boggart is a shapeshifter, sir. It takes the shape of whatever the individual witch or wizard fears most.”
“Well done Miss Granger, 10 points to Slytherin.” He smiled at her. “Now I have procured a Boggart for this class, we will go over the incantation and then each of you will take a turn facing it.” Hermione’s blood went ice cold, and she wasn’t the only one. Theo looked less than pleased at confronting his fears in a room full of their classmates, while Draco looked as if someone had ruined his favorite quidditch kit. Harry had gone deathly white.
“Harry!” she whispered, over Lupin explaining the purpose of the incantation, “Are you okay?” He gave her a look. “Okay fair point, but are you able to get through this lesson?” He nodded once, and looked back to Lupin who was now demonstrating the proper wand movement. She took a moment to practice, trying to imagine a different scenario to make humorous. As they formed a line, her heart was racing. She watched her Gryffindor classmates tackle their fears. A mummy, a banshee, even she laughed as Weasley took on a large spider, taking it’s legs off, and she came to realize that the Gryffindor courage was easy for them, their fears were irrational, or at the very least, far-fetched. But she doubted her Boggart wouldn’t be her fear of heights somehow manifested.
She watched Greg and Vince go, managing to fight off their Inferi, it seemed fitting that they would have the same fear since they did almost everything else together. Daphne would never live down her fear of snakes, if Theo’s smirk was anything to go off of. Slytherins don’t show weakness, and they keep tabs on those that do.
Blaise was the first shock, he stepped forward in line and the snake turned jack-in-the-box bounced once before it shifted into a single grand headstone, with one line reading
Blaise Zabini
It showed no epigraph, no family members, just a name and a date that was blurred beyond recognition. Blaise shuddered before shouting, “Riddikulus!” and the headstone shrunk into a small sign directing the user to hose down before entering an unknown establishment.
Theo flexed his hands as he took Blaise’s recently vacated spot in front of the Boggart. It grew rapidly, until a strange man with dark brown hair was standing before them, he was shouting about a mark, clearly drunk. Theo stared at him for about four seconds before banishing the boggart into a snoring teddy bear, before moving quickly out of line.
Hermione took a deep breath, realizing that must have been Theo’s father before stepping forward to meet the monster. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As the Boggart turned to her, it shifted and grew, until standing in front of her was the thing of her nightmares.
An older Hermione stood before her, dressed impeccably in beautifully tailored black dress robes, dragon leather high-heeled boots clicking on the floor. The older Hermione had long, dark curls framing her made up face, eyes rimmed with black kohl liner, brown eyes turned amber and almost glowing. Atop her curls sat a dark silver crown, set with a large sapphire in the center, inlaid with diamonds. She looked at the classroom, directly at the present-day Hermione and smirked, fingering her wand, but it wasn’t her wand. It was a long and thin, and the witch held it lovingly, but carefully rather than the tight grip she usually kept on her wand. Her hand was adorned with several rings, one set with a large dark stone, a bit odd for an engagement ring she thought.
Hermione shuddered, “Riddikulus!” The older Hermione’s robes changed to a ratty pair of sweatpants and an old quidditch jersey, and she was burping a baby.
The Boggart was already mid-shift into Harry’s fear when Lupin interrupted, “Well I think that’s enough for today!” herding the now moon-shaped Boggart back into the trunk. Hermione turned to look at her friends, most of whom were gaping at her open mouthed. Theo, on the other hand, looked determined and nodded at her before turning to leave the room.
Draco looked paler than usual, but smirked at her, “Blonde babies?” he winked, and she rolled her eyes, but it had broken the tension and the others were relaxing around her discussing the lesson and eachother’s findings.
Hermione spent the entire evening building her walls. No one had spoken directly to her since their DADA class. They’d talked around her, but perhaps that was to be expected, it wasn’t like her greatest fear was exactly normal. The worst feeling was that she knew she was quickly approaching a “sink or swim” moment, as her father liked to say. She was now glad she hadn’t shared with Harry what she had seen in the mirror. She was still wrapping her own head around how her greatest desire was her deepest fear.
Power.
She longed for it. In a way she knew was unattainable, especially for someone like her. Someone without the pureblood pockets, and connections. But still, she yearned for it. For the influence. To drive change. To make the world a better place, she’d whisper to herself when her thoughts verged too dark in the wee hours of the morning.
But it scared her. It scared her so deeply that it manifested in front of their classroom. What would she become.
So she occluded. She spent so long in the study room, tucked behind a shelf and hidden from view, that when she finally moved both her legs had fallen asleep and her back ached from sitting on the floor.
She heard the whispers as she approached the corner her friends were sitting in. Theo and Harry had their heads in close together as she stepped behind the sofa and cleared her throat. She felt slightly justified when Harry jumped and spilled ink over his essay.
“How’s the homework coming?” she asked, smirking.
“Oh, you know,” Harry trailed off.
“So what were you whispering about?” she eyed them, sitting in a chair opposite them.
Theo pinned her with a look so intense she almost shuddered. Almost. She held his stare, her eyes tightening slightly.
“Fine, how’s your father doing?” she asked pointedly. And Theo blinked. She softened, “but seriously, Theo, are you okay?” He shrugged. “What was he yelling about?”
“It’s nothing,” Theo made to get up, but Hermione beat him to it, pushing him down as she stepped over the coffee table and crouched at his feet. “He just drinks too much sometimes since my mum died. He would go on rants about the Dark Lord sometimes, raving about how it killed my mother, and how if he was still here, he’d expect me to take the mark, even before school.” He shuddered. “It’s why I know so much about healing spells,” he said quietly.
Hermione stood, gripping her wand. How dare he. She tried to slam her walls into place but they shattered, her rage boiling over. The fire next to them whoosed out.
“No Hermione, sometimes he hurts himself by accident. I patch him up, he would never hurt me!” Theo tried to pull her back down, making space for her to sit between him and Harry. She couldn’t see, her vision had blurred, and she realized, as Harry handed her a tissue, that she was crying. Theo and Harry each put an arm around her as she sobbed, holding her tight.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccuped, “I can’t stand the idea of someone hurting my friends.” She gave Theo a watery smile.
“I know,” he said quietly, pulling her against him. “I know. But remember Hermione, sometimes you have to play the long game.” She nodded, sniffling.