Lupin's Boggart

"Sister..." The little girl trembled with fright, her face turning pale.

"Enough!"

Draco, who was sitting to the side, suddenly threw his silver fork into the plate with a crisp, loud clink. He gave Daphne a cold look. "You should vent your anger on those who are gossiping and staring at you, not go crazy at the Slytherin table."

Daphne's momentum faltered: "You—"

Draco Malfoy was someone even Pansy Parkinson had to appease, so she didn't dare to vent her anger on Draco. After glaring at Astoria a few times, she left the Great Hall in a huff.

The young wizards watched Daphne's figure disappear, and after a brief silence, an even more heated discussion erupted.

"Besides physical weakness, could there be mental illness in their family as well?" Ron asked in a low voice.

Seamus tilted his head, his tone uncertain. "No way, Astoria seems pretty normal to me."

"Stop, you two!" Hermione tapped her wine glass with her fork. "Don't talk about others behind their backs, whether it's Blood Curse or Genetic Inheritance, it's impolite."

Ron poked at the steak on his plate and muttered, "Isn't this all because of the conversation you and Loren started? And you even brought it up about us..."

Hermione's brows furrowed slowly, as if she felt somewhat guilty.

"Don't listen to him." Loren placed a slice of strawberry pie on her plate. "The idea that it's a genetic disease has been around for a while, but it just so happened that the freshman tripped and fell, so we didn't expect it to cause such a big discussion."

"But..." Hermione still couldn't let go of her worries.

"No buts. If you feel bad about it," Loren paused, avoiding Harry and Ron, and whispered to Hermione, "We can Draco to look after that freshman. As for her sister, no one should dare to offend her in the future."

"Malfoy ..." Hermione nodded slowly.

On the other side, at the Slytherin table.

After seeing her sister leave, Astoria breathed a sigh of relief, a genuine smile appearing on her face.

Draco casually poked at the food on his plate. The food at Hogwarts wasn't bad, but it was still inferior to what he ate at home, especially after the farce that had happened during the meal. He had little appetite now.

Feeling his magic robe being tugged at, he turned around and saw the little girl Astoria grinning at him. "Thank you. My name is Astoria Greengrass. What's your name?"

The older sister is a venomous snake that bites, while the younger sister is a Corn Snake. Why are these sisters so different?

Draco glanced at her, showed no intention of replying, and got up to return to the Slytherin Common Room.

"Huh?"

Astoria watched him walk away, then glanced at his barely touched plate, hurriedly wrapped some pies in brown paper, and staggered after him. "Wait, you still haven't told me your name!"

The first period in the afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Hermione sat upright in the front row, with her textbook, quill pen, and parchment in front of her.

The little Witch diligently flipped through her textbook, previewing the Defense Against the Dark Arts for the third year, occasionally making notes and annotations. Her hair was tied in a bun at the back of her head, her long eyelashes fluttered, and her expression was focused and serene.

Oh my, Hermione looks so good when she's serious.

Loren, standing next to Hermione prepare for her lesson.

Just smelling the pleasant fragrance emanating from Hermione, he started to feel sleepy after a short while. As Hermione turned another page, Loren yawned. "Why are we here so early? There are still twenty minutes before class."

Do you remember Mandrake?

Hermione didn't even look up, quilling a description of the characteristics in the "Boggart" chapter. "After lunch, I went to see Professor McGonagall and asked if the Time-Turner would affect the Animagus. The professor told me to find the answer myself."

How do I find it?

"The journal * Today's Transfiguration * will publish a Special Issue on Animagus at the end of the month, which will compile half a century of Animagus research. Professor McGonagall's research paper from last semester will also be published in it. The professor said I can find the answers in it."

"Oh, I see—" Loren tilted his head and looked at the Boggart portrait in the book, then yawned. "What does this have to do with you dragging me to the classroom early?"

He had skimmed through the Boggart textbook as soon as he received it. Although the descriptions in the book were detailed, there were no physical objects to refer to, so he didn't learn much.

"The teaching progress of the Defense Against the Dark Arts in the past few years has had major problems, and Professor McGonagall asked me to talk to Professor Lupin first. I went to his office but couldn't find him, so I came to the classroom early to wait."

Hermione stopped writing, took out her watch and checked the time. "But Professor Lupin hasn't arrived yet."

Loren got up, stretched, and said, "The school year is still early, let's take it slow."

"Um."

While the two chatted, the other young wizards gradually entered the classroom, laid out their textbooks, and chatted amongst themselves. Three minutes before class began, Professor Lupin finally entered the classroom.

"Good afternoon, sorry I'm late."

Still wearing patched clothes, Lupin's faint smile made him feel closer to his students. "A friend of mine told me that you have fallen behind in some material because two professors last year were not very competent, so I asked Professor Flitwick about the situation."

"Professor McGonagall didn't think of that," Hermione muttered.

Loren observed Lupin's complexion; he looked much healthier than he had on the train, and the aftereffects of his Werewolf transformation on the Full Moon Night were diminishing.

Harry seemed to be in a good mood and whispered to Ron, "That friend Lupin mentioned must be Sirius Black. Those two incompetent professors, haha! Sirius Black is one of them!"

"Oh, hopefully Professor Lupin won't be the third." Ron shrugged.

Lupin placed his tattered suitcase next to the podium and said with a smile, "Today's lesson is a practical one. Please put your textbooks back in your bags, grab your wands, and follow me."

Seamus whistled with interest. "Practical lessons? That reminds me of Lockhart, and those Cornish Pixies."

"Oh no!" Neville shook his head with a distressed expression. "Being hung from the ceiling is not a pleasant memory."

The students were both puzzled and intrigued. They stood up and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom toward the Staff Room.

A minor incident occurred along the way: Professor Lupin used a simple spell to repel Peeves, which put the young wizards at ease.

The Staff Room is a long room with wooden panels on all four walls, and mismatched old tables and chairs have been moved to the corners.

Snape sat in a low armchair.

The chattering young wizards fell silent the moment they saw Snape, gathering quietly behind Professor Lupin.

"Lupin, you'd better handle this properly," Snape said calmly, his gaze sweeping over the young wizards. "Perhaps no one has warned you yet, Lupin, but there are always people in this class who manage to mess things up: clumsy Neville Lomberton, and self-important Harry Potter."

Loren watched with great interest, even with a hint of schadenfreude.

Professor Snape, you're something else! It's bad enough that you act so arrogantly in your own class, but now you're doing it in front of other teachers too.

Snape suddenly changed the subject. "And— Loren Morgan!"

"Huh?" Loren was a little confused when he was suddenly called on.

Snape slowly finished his sentence: "Come to my office Friday night."

"Yes, Professor," Loren replied.

It's the same old Professor Snape. He's always a bit off when Harry's around, not to mention the new Defence Against the Remus Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Lupin is here too.

Lupin raised his eyebrows and called out to Snape, who was walking away, "I was hoping Neville would help me with the first step of the lesson; I was sure he would do a great job."

Neville looked at Lupin gratefully, his face flushed.

"This is my classroom after all." Lupin smiled at him and turned to gesture for the students to walk towards the other end of the room.

A strangely shaped cabinet sat there, looking quite old. Its frame was made of some kind of old tree branch, and its surface was inlaid with mottled mirrors. A handle on the left indicated that it was a single-door wooden cabinet.

Loren and Hermione, who were standing in the front row, could see their faces in the mirror.

Bang! Bang!

The wardrobe suddenly began to shake violently, as some living thing inside caused it to sway, making a dull thud on the floor.

"Isn't it amazing?" Professor Lupin asked with a smile as he saw several students jump back in surprise. "Can any of you guess what's in the cabinet?"

"A Boggart."

"Good answer, Mr. Thomas. Now, can anyone tell me what Boggart looks like?"

Somewhat regretful for missing the first question, Hermione quickly spoke up, "Nobody knows, sir. Boggart Transfiguration, and whatever a person who sees them fears most, that's what the Boggart will become, so they are so—"

"That's terrifying!" Lupin chimed in. "Yes, yes, I can't even describe it more clearly myself. Boggart likes dark, enclosed spaces—closets, gaps under beds, cupboards under sinks..."

As Lupin described the characteristics of the Boggart, Loren stared at the constantly shaking cabinet, trying to discern something with his Magic Power.

Boggart are a peculiar species that do not seem to possess true biological characteristics, making it difficult to classify them as Fantastic Beasts.

Dementor need to consume happy emotions and can communicate with wizards, but there are no records of Boggart eating, reproducing, or communicating.

One mainstream view in academia is Boggart Boggart are products of human emotions, born from the combination of fear and the Magic Power of adaptation.

Lupin's lecture continued, "Boggart have physical forms, but no one knows their true appearance... After Transfiguration, they sometimes cannot mimic the same powers or magic. For example, Boggart transformed into Banshee's cry is not fatal..."

"... The spell to defeat the Boggart is very simple, but it requires immense willpower. You need to force the Boggart into an image that you find hilarious; laughter will break the Boggart."

"Let's practice the spells without using wands first. Repeat after me— Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" the whole class chanted in unison.

"Very good, very good!" Lupin nodded and looked at Neville. "Come on, Mr. Longbottom, just as I said before class, I believe you can do an excellent job of helping me complete the first step of the teaching task."

Neville cautiously stepped out of the line and approached the cabinet.

"Very good, Neville," Professor Lupin said. "Let's start with the most important question: what are you most afraid of in this world?"

Neville's eyes flickered, and he slowly fell silent.

What are you most afraid of?

Professor Lupin's words echoed in his ears, and his thoughts were pulled back to the first day of summer vacation by the shaking of the cabinet.

The closed ward was quiet that day. Stepping out the door led to Diagon Alley, then down a dark alley to Knockturn Alley, and into the basement of a Dark Arts supply store...

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

"I'm sorry, Neville, I didn't hear you," Professor Lupin said gently, trying to guide him.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville's eyes flashed with fear, and his voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

Loren's eyes narrowed; he remembered that Neville's original answer should have been Professor Snape.

Neville never had any real-life interaction with Bellatrix; the reason for this turn of events was only in the Lumbard couple ' memory illusions.

"Bellatrix! The Death Eater escaped from the newspapers!" Harry exclaimed quietly.

Almost every young wizard perked up and huddled together, discussing in hushed tones.

Lupin rubbed his temples, feeling a bit of a headache.

Are all the young wizards these days so mature? He thought they would be spiders, cockroaches, rats, or even more outrageous Fantastic Beasts.

Neville gave such a serious answer. You see, making a vicious Death Eater funny is much harder than those things.

But considering Neville's surname, Lupin felt the answer made sense. He sighed and thoughtfully guided her, "Bellatrix... um, Neville, I'd like to ask if you've learned how to brew a potion to treat scabies?"

"Potion?" Neville was a little confused. "Yes, we learned about it in first grade. I even added Porcupine Quills at the wrong time during that class, and the cauldron exploded, the potion got all over me and I got covered in scabies."

"Excellent, even better than I expected!" Lupin's face broke into a smile. "Neville, do you remember what those scabies looked like? Can you tell me?"

Neville said somewhat nervously, "Okay, Professor. The medicine will quickly cause redness, swelling, and suppuration when it gets on the skin, and it will make you tremble with pain. Even if you apply the medicine, it will leave red marks."

He recalled his first year of high school, when his speech gradually became more fluent. Finally, he suddenly understood Lupin's meaning, looked up abruptly, and stared at Lupin in disbelief.

"Do it your way, and you'll definitely succeed!" Lupin nodded to him, then turned to the others. "I hope everyone takes some time to think about what you're most afraid of, and then imagine how to overcome that fear and make it ridiculous..."