𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍, george weasley

028

TWENTY EIGHT

The classroom was cold, and the faint flicker of candlelight did little to warm the room. Professor Lupin stood at the front, his kind, tired eyes scanning the students as they shifted nervously in their seats.

Today's lesson was about boggarts.

Victoria sat between Fred and George, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She tried to focus on Lupin's calm voice, but her thoughts kept drifting. This was one lesson she had been dreading. She wasn't sure what form her boggart would take, and that uncertainty left a gnawing sense of unease.

"Now," Lupin began, pacing in front of the class, "does anyone know what a boggart is?"

Several hands shot up, including George's. Lupin nodded at him.

"It's a shape-shifter, right?" George said. "Takes the form of whatever you fear most."

"Exactly," Lupin replied with a nod. "A boggart is a creature that thrives on fear. It doesn't have a true form of its own. Instead, it transforms into whatever frightens you the most. That's why they're so difficult to face—everyone's boggart is different."

He gestured toward the large, rattling wardrobe at the front of the room. "Today, we'll be practicing the charm to defeat a boggart. Can anyone tell me the incantation?"

"Riddikulus," Fred said confidently, his arm slung casually over the back of his chair.

"Correct, Mr. Weasley. Riddikulus. The charm forces the boggart to take on a comedic form, something so absurd that it loses its power. Laughter, you see, is the best way to defeat fear." Lupin smiled briefly. "Now then, who would like to go first?"

Fred and George exchanged glances. "We will," Fred said, nudging his twin. "We'll go together."

Lupin raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Very well. Come forward."

The twins stepped up to the front of the class, wands drawn, grinning with confidence. Lupin waved his wand, and the wardrobe creaked open. The boggart burst forth in a swirl of dark mist before taking form.

It shifted into a pair of towering figures—Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall, their faces stern, arms crossed, and disapproving looks etched into their features.

"I am so disappointed in you," the boggart-McGonagall scolded. "Detention for a month!"

"No more pranks, ever," added boggart-Mrs. Weasley in a severe tone.

Fred and George glanced at each other, their grins widening. "Riddikulus!" they shouted in unison.

The figures wobbled, then transformed into a pair of clucking chickens, complete with spectacles and knitting needles. The class burst into laughter as the chickens squawked indignantly.

Fred and George bowed theatrically before stepping aside. "Easy," Fred said with a wink.

Lupin chuckled. "Well done, both of you. Now... Miss Windsor?"

Victoria's heart skipped a beat. She rose slowly from her seat, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on her. Fred gave her a reassuring pat on the back, and George whispered, "You've got this."

She nodded, gripping her wand tightly, and stepped forward to face the wardrobe. The laughter from a moment ago had faded, and the room was eerily quiet. The boggart hesitated, swirling in confusion before it began to take shape.

Victoria held her breath.

At first, the shape was indistinct, swirling shadows that seemed unsure of what to become. Then, slowly, it coalesced into something deceptively simple: a crown.

A gold, jewel-encrusted crown, lying on the cold stone floor.

The classroom was silent as the crown began to shift and change, its jewels tarnishing, its once-polished surface dulling. Around it, ghostly whispers echoed through the room.

A crown? She was scared of her own destiny.

Victoria's throat tightened as the whispers grew louder, overlapping into a cacophony of doubt and fear. The crown seemed to mock her, a symbol of everything she feared—expectations she couldn't meet, a life she couldn't escape, a future that felt like a prison.

The class stared in confusion. It wasn't a monster, or something obviously terrifying like a spider or a snake. Just a crown. But Victoria's face was pale, her hands trembling.

From the back of the room, someone snickered. "It's just a crown," a Slytherin muttered. "What's so scary about that?"

Fred shot them a glare, but Victoria barely noticed. The whispers continued to swirl around her, each one a dagger to her confidence.

Lupin stepped forward slightly, concern in his eyes. "Victoria?"

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. She knew what she had to do. Riddikulus. Make it funny. Make it lose its power. But how do you make expectation funny? How do you laugh at failure?

Fred and George's voices echoed in her mind. *You've got this.*

She raised her wand, her voice shaking but determined. "R-Riddikulus!"

The crown wobbled, shifting awkwardly. Its grand, intimidating form shrank down into something small and absurd—a toy crown, made of bright plastic, with sparkly pink jewels that looked like they belonged on a toddler's birthday hat.

The whispers faded, replaced by the sound of tinny, cheerful music that played from somewhere within the toy crown.

The class erupted in laughter.

Even Victoria managed a small smile as the toy crown spun in place, its once-terrifying presence reduced to something laughable and harmless. She took a deep breath, the weight lifting from her chest.

"Well done, Miss Windsor," Lupin said softly, stepping forward to close the wardrobe. "Very well done."

Victoria returned to her seat, her legs shaky. Fred and George flanked her immediately, Fred leaning in with a grin. "A crown, huh? Didn't see that coming."

George, however, was watching her closely. He had expected it, he knew she was crumbling under the weight of the crowns expectations. "You okay?"

She nodded, but the vulnerability lingered in her eyes. "Yeah. Just... didn't expect it to be that."

George reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze under the table. "You handled it so well, I'm so proud of you."

"And you made it look ridiculous," Fred added. "A toddler's party crown? Genius."

Victoria managed a genuine smile. "Thanks."

The class continued, but Victoria's mind stayed on the crown, and what it represented. She had faced her fear today, but the weight of it still lingered. She glanced at George, his steady presence beside her, and took a deep breath.

For now, that was enough.