Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "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?"
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 Professor 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," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Y/N?"
Y/N was not expecting Remus to call on him, especially with Hermione jumping up and down, hand raised in the air, on his left.
"There's too many of us, the Boggart won't know what shape to take."
"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, smiling, 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. 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. 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 do is force it to 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 Professor 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 forward as though he were heading for the gallows.
"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"
Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.
"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor 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. Professor 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 Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"
YOU ARE READING
The Prisoner of Azkaban (Hermione Granger x Male Reader)
FanfictionY/N's third year at Hogwarts starts rather dark, with an escaped killer who is looking for one of his best friends and evil Dementors patrolling the castle grounds. But some familiar faces alleviate some of the gloom. I do not own Harry Potter or a...