Conquering Fear

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban; page 140:

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart —"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

Hermione was frustrated. Ron's words had been circling in her mind for days. At first, she had been annoyed. She knew he had been joking, but sometimes she wondered if her friends truly believed all she cared about was school. Realizing that wasn't true, and that she actually did care about school a lot, she started wondering what her fear actually was. She didn't have one particular creature that scared her like it scared her classmates. She actually thought it could've been various things, as she believed fears differed depending on what was going on in one's life.

Maybe her fear of heights would've come to the front of her mind, but she hadn't been forced on a broom since her first year, so she doubted that. Maybe she would have seen a Basilisk, the one that had petrified her last year. She bobbed her head in confirmation, that would've probably been it. Her mind had been on creatures as that was what most of her classmates had shown. She frowned as more questions started forming in her mind. What for effect would a Boggart Basilisk have on a person? It's eyes surly wouldn't kill her, but could it petrify her like her mirror did? She decided to just ask professor Lupin during their next class, now she had to hurry to Ancient Runes.

It had been weeks since she had asked professor Lupin all her questions. He had promised her a Boggart would not be able to actual kill or petrify her. All it could do was maybe petrify her of fear, especially because it would bring up a bad memory in her case, but nothing permanent. Hermione had nodded enthusiastically and had started wondering if it would've been the actual size of a Basilisk, as it would've barely fit in the teachers lounge. Professor Lupin had said it would've been big, but probably not as long as the one she had encountered the previous year. He had seemed amused and had suggested to bring her along when he would find another boggart. She had been thrilled by his offer, but after weeks of not hearing anything, she wondered if her professor might had forgotten all about it.

It wasn't until after the Christmas holidays, that he approached her. Hermione had another miserable, stressful day and her run-in with Malfoy in the library where he told her she looked like a ghost, hadn't helped her at all. She was angrily wiping her tears away, when she almost ran into the professor who actually didn't look much better than herself.

"Hermione, are you alright?" he asked her concerned.

"Yes professor." She squeaked in a small voice.

He didn't seem to believe her, but he decided to let it go. "Well, if you say so. I was actually waiting for our next lesson to tell you this, but maybe you have time now?"

She nodded, curious as what he had to say.

"Well, I found a boggart, as Harry probably told you. If you want, we can practice your spell work?"

She looked surprised for a second, before she gave her first real smile in weeks and nodded enthusiastically.

They walked together to his classroom and he was discussing his dementor-lesson with Harry with her. She pretended it wasn't all new information, because it seemed clear professor Lupin expected she knew everything about it already from Harry himself. He clearly didn't know anything about their fight.

"I have to say, I am a bit more concerned than before about the effects the basilisk-boggart will have than at first. Harry's encounter with the dementor-boggart was more realistic than I expected. Of course, it would never be able to actually suck his soul like a real dementor, but I am not sure what the fake basilisk for effect will have on you. I will promise, you will be safe with me, but if you want to rethink this exercise, it is perfectly fine."

She took a deep breath and said breathily: "No, I trust you professor. Besides, I am curious as to what will happen when I face a boggart."

"You are going up against a boggart, Granger?" A voice behind her drawled. "This I've got to see. You wouldn't mind, would you professor? Or do only Gryffindors get extra lessons with you?"

Professor Lupin seemed unfaced by the taunting words Malfoy had to say and to her regret he agreed easily. "Of course, I always encourage my students to practice, and in this case, face their fears."

Malfoys smirk dropped a bit at that, but recovered quickly and send a sneer to her when the haggard professor just continued down the hall. They entered the classroom and with a swish of his wand, professor Lupin cleared out the desks and chairs. Another swish, and a large chest came flying through what Hermione assumed to be his private courters. She had to refrain herself from bouncing up and down now that she finally got the chance to face a boggart on her own. She couldn't help her smirk however when she could see right through Malfoys cold front and seemed just as curious as she was. Her giddiness quickly faded however when he gave her a look of disgust.

"Alright Hermione, are you ready?" professor Lupin asked her happily. "Remember, it's riddikulus and you need to think of something funny."

She nodded and took her stance, but her minds were still on the blond git when the professor opened the chest. In the corner of her eye she saw the professor on high alert, ready to interfere when necessary, and Malfoy was looking intensely between her and the chest. She focused then, ready to take on a fake basilisk. She still hadn't decided what she would make of the gigantic snake, maybe she could transform it into a stuffed snake or something.

She wasn't however prepared to for what came out instead of the basilisk. Her eyes widened as she recognized the girl in front of her that couldn't be older than nine. It was her childhood bully; Miranda. Slowly her mind started to realize what was coming. But her own surprise and the chuckle she heard from somewhere behind her had her rooted to the spot.

"Really Granger, a little girl?" Malfoy mocked.

She ignored him however and observed the fake Miranda, unsure how to make a little girl look funny. The step forward didn't bother her at all, like Malfoy said, she was just a little girl, she wasn't scared of her. But then the boggart started speaking.

"Look who it is!" it said gleefully. "Freaky Hermione has found a wand. Finally found a few fellow freaks, did you? So sad that even with their magic tricks they still can't help you with that rat's nest you call hair, or those beaver teeth."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the insults; they were hardly scary. Malfoy merely had raised his eyebrow at the girl and professor Lupin looked annoyed at her, but seemed to wait for her to undertake action. But then she noticed how with each insult, the fake Miranda spoke less gleeful and more threatening, how her face turned more menacing and how her entire aura represented more of a girl from a horror film, than an actual girl.

"Sad, how you don't even have friends in this freak school. Looks like you always will be alone, no matter how much you try to impress everyone with that magic of yours. Maybe you should just accept your fate and burn at the stakes like witches are supposed to do."

Her mouth dropped as flames slowly crept closer to her. With a weak riddikulus she tried to stop the approaching threat. It didn't stop the boggart exactly as she hadn't focused on anything funny, but it did transform from a 9-year-old girl to a 13-year-old boy. Within seconds she was standing in a room with two Draco Malfoy's, one very real and looking intrigued, and another fake looking at her as she was some disgusting goo under his fancy shoes.

"Well, well, well, as if it isn't the filthy mudblood," the fake Draco sneered, "you really thought you have a place here? You not even worthy of polishing my shoes. You should've been killed by the basilisk; it was a real shame for everyone when you woke up. Nobody missed you, your parents didn't even come to visit their pathetic daughter. And look at your so-called friends, they ditch you for a freaking broom. They no longer have any use of you, your just mud that sticks to everyone's shoes."

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed hard through her nose. It was just Malfoy being a git, but the next words stung harder than she wanted to admit.

"I would dispose of you myself if I didn't think it would be a waste of my magic."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she ignored them. Now wasn't the time. With an unsteady hand, she raised her wand and tried to perform the spell, but nothing came. Suddenly, there was a presence behind her and a wand beside her own.

"Riddikulus." Malfoy whispered near her ear.

Much to her surprise, the fake Draco was suddenly wearing a flowery sundress. The boggart was looking absolutely appalled at his new clothes. And then he started dancing, he was waving his hands up and down and moving his feet left to right. Hermione looked from the real Draco, who was staring at her, following the tears as they dripped from her cheek to the floor, to the fake Draco who was still dancing. Giggles erupted from her until she had to hold onto the real Draco in order to not fall over.

After regaining her breath, she looked back to the Slytherin. He was now wearing his cocky smirk and for the first time, Hermione didn't mind it at all. Without warning however, reality crept back into their minds and they both took a step away from each other.

"Well," professor Lupin said, reminding everyone of his presence, "that was a surprise. Do you want to try now, Draco?"

Draco, no Malfoy she chastised herself, looked horrified at the prospect. "No. I already performed the charm; it is Granger who needs more practice."

"If you're sure-" professor Lupin started, but his words faltered as the boggart approached Malfoy, clearly attracted by the worry radiating of him.

Hermione decided that Malfoy had been right, she had failed and should have a do-over, and walked in front of him only to be grabbed by the wrist and pushed behind the owner. She stared for a second into the silver eyes, his smirk and worry replaced by a determined grimace.

The three of them watched fake Draco's clothes turn back to his usual black robes as he casually strolled towards them. He stopped right in front of Malfoy and for a second, Hermione realized that she wouldn't know who was the real one if they switched sides unseen. But then she saw the dirt on his hands and she could hear Ron in the back of her mind, making a scathing remark about how Malfoy was afraid to get dirty. But then she noticed that at his feet she was laying in the mud.

She blinked when it looked as if mud seemed to grow redder by the second. Her jaw dropped as slowly but surely, the brown mud turned into red blood. Her blood. The silence in the classroom was broken when voices seemed to appear out of nowhere. The whispers became louder as they told them the danger and inferiority of mudblood, until only one voice was heard. A voice that settled in the form of a tall man in black robes with platinum blond hair streaming from under his silver mask.

"I'm proud of you Draco. You gave the mudblood what she deserved." Lucius Malfoy told his son.

Draco looked stricken by the sight in front of him and Hermione felt a pang of sadness for him. She put her arm on his shoulder and he looked at her. Her hesitant smile seemed to calm him and with an encouraging nod from her, he muttered "Riddikulus."

They both turned their heads back to the scene, where a seemingly dead Hermione jumped up and started dancing around them, mocking the fake Malfoys of falling for her act. Hermione giggled again as she noticed the gloating tone the dancing Hermione had. It was exactly how she sounded whenever she was rubbing in someone's face she was right.

Professor Lupin seemed to have decided it was enough and struggled for a few minutes putting the Boggart back into the chest before turning to the students.

"I apologize for that. I should've known the two brightest students of the 3rd year wouldn't have fears as simple as a creature."

"It's alright, professor." Hermione whispered shocked, before turning to the Slytherin next to her, only to widen her eyes as she saw his wand pointed at them.

"Sorry," he whispered and then, "Oblivi-"

Before he could finish the incantation, his spell flew out of his hand and into professor Lupins.

"There is no need for that, Draco."

"Yes, there is. You just saw-" he was stumbling over his words and he looked terrified.

Professor Lupin sighed. "Draco, I have gone to school with your father, I have fought him during the War. I know he is a Death Eater, and I know he wasn't forced to do this. So, there is no need for being worried. Taking this to the Ministry is useless. There was much more convincing evidence after the War than his son seeing a boggart in the form of his father in Death Eater clothes."

When Malfoy seemed to reluctantly accept that he couldn't take on a professor without a wand he turned to her. She in turn bit her bottom lip, processing everything she had just seen.

"I won't tell anyone about this, not even Harry and Ron." She said quietly. "Could you, could you not tell anyone either?"

He was staring at her again, probably wondering if he could trust her or not. She refused to back down and after several awkward minutes he nodded.

"Alright," professor Lupin said, sounding relieved, "I think that's enough for today."

Walking towards them, professor Lupin gave Malfoy his wand back and guided them both outside.

"Oh, and Draco, I had a friend once who was raised like you once. Unlike you, he was a rebel at heart and defied his parents at every turn, but I know it was hard on him. I know I can't tell you what to do, but you don't have to follow into your father's footsteps. Its your life after all."

And with that, the professor closed the door on them and they were both standing alone in the hallway. They stared at each other, unsure how to proceed, for a few minutes.

"Well, goodnight Granger." He drawled and turned to walk away.

"Draco." she called.

He stopped, but didn't turn back around and waited for her to continue. Except, she wasn't sure what to say. She could ask if he actually believed everything he had told her these past years. Or if she should be scared of his father, or worse him. That she was sad he had been raised with these prejudices, or if he really believed that his father would be proud of murder. But none of that seemed the right response for what she had seen, so she settled for something she hoped he would keep in mind.

"Thank you for helping me with my fears. I owe you."