❝𝑨 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔.
𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆❞
A Muggleborn in Slytherin was unheard of. Until Emelia Clermont came along in 1991. This is her story, and how s...
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ⅹⅳ. 🇧🇴🇬🇬🇦🇷🇹🇸
A tall wardrobe rattled violently as Emelia regarded it warily with several classmates.
"Intriguing, yes? Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what's inside?" Professor Lupin, the man that saved Emelia from the dementor, said.
The girl noticed that several scars marred his face and dark circles were prominent under his amber eyes. But he radiated a kind aura nonetheless.
"That's a Boggart, that is," Seamus said in a hushed voice.
"Very good, Mr Finnegan. Can anyone tell us what a Boggart looks like?"
"It's different for everyone," Emelia mumbled in the silent classroom after no one said anything. Over the years that she'd had incompetent Defense teachers, she'd decided to study the course on her own during the Quidditch matches.
The teacher inclined his head, a sign for her to continue.
"Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears most. That's what makes it so–"
The voice of Hermione Granger rang out in the classroom beside Emelia. "When'd she get there?" questioned Ron, whispering.
"Terrifying, yes," Lupin finished Hermione's sentence. "Luckily, a very simple charm..."
Emelia cringed at the word charm. That lesson wasn't going to be a breeze, as it seemed.
"Exists to repel a Boggart. Let's practice it now, shall we? Without wands, please... Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" The entire class repeated.
Emelia heard Draco scoff from where he was leaning against the wall, "This class is ridiculous."
She had to make an effort not to laugh. The brunette wasn't going to offend a teacher on their first day with them.
"Good," Lupin praised. "So much for the easy part. You see, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a Boggart off is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing."
"Neville, come up here, will you?"
Longbottom eyed the rattling wardrobe and stepped forward queasily.
"What would you say is the thing that frightens you most?"
"P- Professor Snape," he mumbled.
"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry."
"Professor Snape," Nevile said, clearly.
Emelia laughed good-naturedly. It wasn't really a surprise that Neville feared Snape. The Professor nodded thoughtfully.
