Chapter 23
Banishing Boggarts
There was much whispering when the headmistress announced at breakfast that she would be taking over that day’s Transfiguration lessons. After assuring everyone that Professor Lupin had made a full recovery and would be assuming his usual duties tomorrow, she cautioned them that he was not to be disturbed in his office today. To make sure that her message did not fall on deaf ears, she warned them that the Professor’s office door had been hexed with a stinging spell that would only allow access to those with the appropriate password.
“Before you all accost poor Mr. Potter here for a recount of his bravery, remember that he is not scheduled to give me a full report until midday,” McGonagall intoned, “and I will be most displeased if anyone gets to hear the tale before I do.” She gave them all a stern look that didn’t fool Harry one bit.
He turned back to his plate to keep from smiling only to find that one of the post owls had left him a small roll of parchment. Slowly he unrolled it to find that the message read simply: The password is bodice-ripper. He looked to the head table and caught McGonagall watching him intently. He smiled in return as she motioned for him to tear the parchment into little pieces.
Harry waved and smiled to all those that he passed on the way to Lupin’s office but no one stopped him to chat. In her familiar purple ink, Tonks had printed a hand-lettered sign on the door which read:
Harry chuckled softly as he waited for the corridor to empty. Then he whispered the password and was rewarded with the click of the lock. He quickly let himself in, closing the door behind. The front room was empty, the desk covered with even more baskets and boxes than before, but it was clear that someone had gone through the items and organized some of them on the far bookshelf.
“Is that you, Harry?” Lupin’s voice called from the inner office. “The charm engages automatically when you close the door.”
The scene in the inner office was much different than that of the previous day. The window curtains were drawn back to allow for a feeble bit of morning sunshine but the majority of the light was from the roaring fire in the grate. The sideboards were gleaming in the firelight, bare except for a tall vase filled with a riotous display of flowers that could only have come from the headmistress’ private garden. Turning towards the mantel, he found a small round vase with roses that he recognized from Professor Sprout’s hot house.
Lupin was ensconced in one of the comfortable chairs by the fire, his feet propped up on the footstool, a pot of tea on the small table to the side. He looked up from the book that he was reading and smiled warmly.
“Welcome, Harry,” he offered in a jovial tone. “Please make yourself comfortable wherever you’d like.”
Dropping his things in the nearest chair, Harry pulled up one of the other armchairs so he could sit closer to Lupin. Although the Professor still looked somewhat pale, he looked no worse than in the past when he’d returned to classes after suffering through a full blown transformation. Harry was surprised to note that Lupin was not wearing his customary tweeds and corduroys, though, but was dressed in jeans and a thick black jumper.
“I know, I know,” Lupin began, “I feel like I’m totally out of uniform.”
Harry’s smile broadened as he replied, “Forgive me for staring, Professor, I’m just so really, really glad to see you. The last couple of days have been just awful.”
“For me, also,” admitted Lupin. “Have you ever seen Poppy Pomfrey on a rampage? It’s enough to scare the Dark Lord’s own minions!”
And with that, Harry started laughing at the image of the petite school nurse chasing students around the Hospital Wing threatening them with what? A thermometer? Lupin joined in and they finally stopped when they could no longer catch their breath.
“Merlin, I needed that!” confessed Harry, wiping the moisture from his eyes. “Before I forget, Professor, Ron sent you this box of chocolate cauldrons. He sort of lost his taste for them when somebody replaced the Firewhiskey filling with love potion in the last box.”
“Surely, you’re joking,” Lupin returned. “That didn’t really happen, did it?”
Harry nodded solemnly and told the entire tale of Ron’s birthday woes, down to the part where Slughorn mixed them an antidote while still in his dressing gown. He judiciously left out the coda about the poisoned mead; it made for a much funnier story that way.
“So let me understand this,” Lupin asked in mock seriousness as he examined the unopened box. “There’s a possibility that these candies may be spiked with love potion?”
“Well, the odds are definitely against it,” Harry reassured him. “I understand Ron has already asked Hermione to be his date at the next dance.”
Lupin was caught totally off-guard for a moment, then he threw back his head and laughed uproariously.
Harry waited until Lupin had almost recovered before adding with a mischievous grin, “Ginny said you would laugh at that.”
“Well, who wouldn’t?”
“Snape, for one,” Harry replied as the last vestiges of Lupin’s merriment died.
“That’s true,” admitted Lupin, “but how did you ever figure that out? What made you taunt Severus in just such a manner? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in such a murderous rage. All the while, I’m having to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.”
“I had trouble dead-panning that one myself,” Harry conceded. “But as to why I choose such a remark, I’m not sure I can give you much of an answer. There were hundreds of incidents: truly vicious, hateful things that he had done that I could have thrown up at him, but that seemed a very dangerous path to take. Not that I had time to think it through much in that split second…”
“Actually, I think you did, Harry. The subconscious is a very powerful and under-rated part of the brain.”
“Professor, my question to you is this: why didn’t you retrieve one of the back-up wands? You purposely stretched out right next to my book bag, close enough to perform a wandless summoning charm. I even diverted Snape’s attention for you.”
“That you did,” replied Lupin, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. “But there really wasn’t as much time as you seem to think, Severus immobilized me almost immediately. I think that the most compelling question is: why did Severus not cut us both down when we had our backs to him, totally distracted by the duel that we had just completed? Don’t tell me that he’s too much of a gentleman to take somebody down from behind, because I don’t believe it.”
“Well, you do have a point,” Harry considered. “That would have been more efficient. Unless that wasn’t his goal.”
“Exactly. So perhaps it’s better that I didn’t put all our cards on the table just then. I would have hated to waste our secret weapons unnecessarily.”
“Well, if we take him at his word, Professor, he came looking for me. I can’t deny that there’s a lot of unfinished business between us.”
“Things that would engender such animosity? Harry, that was hatred I saw blazing in his eyes.”
“If you saw it in him, then you must have also seen it in me,” Harry allowed.
“You’re wrong about that. There is such a thing as righteous anger “ and you, more than anyone, should be outraged that he murdered Dumbledore right in front of you. I’d be more worried about you if you weren’t. But tell me, Harry, what made you lose your step? You were blocking all of Snape’s spells consistently, rhythmically even, and then you faltered. I didn’t see you trip or anything.”
“No, I didn’t trip. It was just as you said, we were falling into a sort of rhythm, it was as if time itself was stretching out; every second seemed excruciatingly long. In those extra heartbeats that I should have used to formulate a plan, the only thought running through my mind was that I was dueling with a man who had delivered a killing curse with no more effort than it took to put a snarl on his lips, and I was absolutely terrified.”
Harry hung his head in defeat but Lupin patted his knee reassuringly. “Don’t beat yourself up for a perfectly understandable response. Tell me, though, what were the last words he said to you, when he had you pinned up against the tree? It was clear he was threatening you in some way.”
“Actually, that’s the most puzzling thing of all. I expected him to either kill me, hex me, or threaten me in some new and novel way. The more intimidating he wishes to be, the softer and more enunciated his words become. I’ve seen him do it a million times in class. Yet when he had me cornered, his words to me were that I should never break my concentration and that I should use the moments between my opponent’s attacks to launch a counter-offensive.”
“HE GAVE YOU DUELING ADVICE?” Lupin was speechless.
Harry nodded. “I came here to find answers and it looks like all we have are more questions.”
“Nothing makes any bloody sense!” Lupin cried as he paced in front of the fireplace. “I know Severus has always been an enigma but there has to be a key somewhere. His actions have the logic of a madman -- and I know he isn’t insane!”
Suddenly losing steam, Lupin threw himself back into the armchair and ran his fingers through his hair. His frustration before a problem that defied analysis was palatable.
Abruptly, Harry was reminded of Hermione who believed in dissecting a problem into its constituent parts. “Professor, I think I know a different approach. But first, I’m making a fresh pot of tea to calm my nerves.” He didn’t mention that seeing Lupin so keyed up made him feel extremely uneasy.
“Perhaps a bit of chocolate would not be out of order, either,” volunteered Lupin as he found a large bar from Honeydukes and broke it in half before handing a portion to Harry.
“I thought that only worked for dementors,” Harry commented as he felt the rich, creamy flavor slide down his throat.
“Well, I suppose you could say that there are literal dementors and then there are figurative dementors,” Lupin quipped.
Harry knew he was being set up but urged anyway, “Educate me, please.”
“Well, a literal dementor is one that is actually able to perform ‘the kiss’; one that, if it bred, would produce little dementors. A figurative dementor is one that only assumes the shape of a dementor “ like your boggart, for instance.”
“All right,” Harry returned as he organized his thoughts. “What about something that assumes the duties of a dementor. You know, like the Dursleys?”
“That would be a figurative dementor, as well,” Lupin agreed.
“What about Dolores Umbridge then?” Harry shot back.
“Literal dementor, hands down,” Lupin dead-panned as Harry started chuckling.
“How about Severus Snape?”
“Oh, he’s just a boggart!”
Harry practically choked on the last of his chocolate but managed to wash it down with some tea. He could tell that Lupin was definitely in better spirits, also.
“Actually, Severus Snape is Neville’s boggart,” began Harry. “Which you so kindly taught him to banish by imagining it dressed as his grandmother.”
Lupin chuckled at the memory. “It worked.”
“And everyone in that class gets a big laugh, including the Slytherins. But you know that word of it got back to Snape, who we have already established is petty and utterly humorless. So from that day forward, Snape decides that he’s going to get a little of his own back. Because he already knows what your figurative boggart is, Professor, and he’s determined to spill the beans. So he waits until you miss class during the full moon and he assigns our class, the same class that witnessed him in drag, to write an essay about werewolves. Whether it’s too subtle a clue or not, Hermione is the only one who actually completes the assignment, but she keeps your secret to herself because she likes you and distrusts Snape. You return to class and cancel the assignment before it’s due to be turned in, effectively dashing Plan A.
“So Snape bides his time and then he’s presented with the perfect opportunity: he brings you your Wolfsbane Potion one evening and finds that you’re not at your desk where you should be “ on the night of the full moon, no less. When he looks out the window, he sees that the moon is hidden behind some clouds so there’s a little bit of extra time for you to take the potion. Quite by chance, he sees you headed towards the Whomping Willow and endeavors to catch-up. Events unfold inevitably at this point: moonlight, werewolf, etc. But just to make sure that his efforts are noticed by all, Snape leaks word the next morning that you are indeed a werewolf, even though those of use who actually witness the transformation for the first time would have gladly kept your secret.”
“Yes, yes, Harry; this is all ancient history.” Lupin impatiently waved him off.
“We haven’t gotten to the payoff yet. But I should clarify that this is not my analysis, but rather Hermione’s. So I suggest you buckle your seatbelt “ which, by the way, Professor, is another bit of Muggle slang… Where was I? Oh, yes, Ron, Hermione and I would all have gladly kept your secret, just like we kept Sirius’. Now ask yourself: why would Snape go to all that trouble to expose you when all he had to do was accidentally misbrew the Wolfsbane Potion that he prepared each month? He didn’t have to wait until you were distracted enough to run off right before the scheduled delivery time.”
“I went after you because I thought your lives were in danger. That fear drove everything else from my mind,” Lupin clarified. “I should have been more prudent, but there you have it.”
“I accept that,” Harry acknowledged. “But if Snape went to the trouble of going after you, why didn’t he just bring the potion with him to the Whomping Willow? There might still have been enough time for you to take it.”
“It does take on ominous tones when you put it that way. Snape made a point of stopping by my office while I was packing to say, ‘This is what comes from your Gryffindor sense of chivalry.’ He practically spat the words at me.”
“What was your response?”
“I thanked him for his kind words and went back to packing my things.”
“The fact that he had failed to ruffle your feathers must have galled him more than anything,” Harry observed.
Lupin indicated his indifference with a shrug. “I was so numb that I doubt any of his barbs would have drawn blood that morning.”
“Then I wasted my entreaties to have you stay?”
“It wasn’t an option for me at that time.” Lupin sighed in regret. “Your heartfelt words only made it more difficult. I felt like I was turning my back on you….but you’d already found Sirius by then.”
Lupin’s unexpected candor surprised Harry, but he responded in kind, “I would have preferred to have you both in my life.”
“Life had a funny way of twisting our words when it fulfills our wishes, don’t you think?” Lupin hesitated as if he suddenly regretted speaking his mind so clearly. “Getting back to Snape, did Hermione come to any conclusions?”
It took Harry a moment to change tracks; Lupin’s moods were not generally so changeable. “Yes and no,” he replied. “That Snape is a thin-skinned, misanthropic bully--”
“That was a given,” supplied Lupin.
“”but also that he would go to great lengths to achieve his ends in such a manner that he could not be held accountable.”
“How does that apply to the current situation, Harry?” Lupin was definitely intrigued.
“Only that Snape had something up his sleeve and we haven’t a clue what it is. But, you’re right, attacking us was not his goal, it was just the byproduct of his careless and inconsiderate methods.”
“You mean like the fact that he terrorized Neville to the point that his literal boggart assumed the shape of Severus Snape? As Neville’s teacher, how else could I have instructed him to banish said boggart? I had no idea when I set the lesson plan that this was going to come up, you know.”
“Of course, Professor, nobody else would have held you accountable for the shape of Neville’s nightmares. And humiliating the boggart was the only way to achieve riddikulus. It was just unfortunate that the Slytherins were also in the same class.”
“And the fact that Snape has no compassion for anyone’s feelings other than his own?” Lupin suggested.
Harry nodded. “But please don’t get me wrong, Professor, those instructions you gave Neville went a long way. Sure, Snape continued to humiliate him, maybe even picked on him a little more in Potions class, but you could tell that it never got under Neville’s skin the same way as it had in the past. You gave him a way to fight back from the inside.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Lupin replied graciously. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a more glowing testimonial. Not to mention the fact that every time I think of Snape dressed like a Victorian-era matron, it always brings a smile to my face!”
“True enough,” agreed Harry, “but I have one almost as good for you. Picture Snape at the Halloween Ball trying his utmost to impress the judges “ and he’s dressed as Captain Hook!”
“I’m never going to be able to get that image out of my mind!” cried Lupin, as he began to laugh all over again.
“Tell me about it,” commiserated Harry as the humor overtook him as well. “That’s the way he’s been appearing in my nightmares lately.”
Their hilarity was interrupted by the sound of the office door opening, followed by a blur of hair as Hermione and Ginny flew into the inner office.
“What are you two doing here?” Lupin laughed as both girls managed to hug him even though he was still sitting in the armchair.
“Professor McGonagall gave me the password at the end of class so we could come say hello,” Ginny explained as she snuggled up on the armrest.
“It’s lunchtime already? Tonks said she’d bring something up from the Great Hall,” Lupin remarked brightly. “By the way, girls, thank you both so much for the jumper. It fits perfectly.”
Hermione ran her hand appreciatively along the shoulder as she leaned on the other armrest. “We wanted to get you something to keep you from getting chilled.”
“Color suits you, too.” Ginny smiled from the other side.
Lupin turned his attention to Harry once more. “Tomorrow at two.”
Harry nodded and turned to get his things together. Closing the door to the inner office, he smiled as he heard Lupin telling Hermione how she was going to have to help him with his Christmas present for Tonks. Harry was almost at the outer door when he realized that Ginny had silently followed him.
“The headmistress requested that you join her for lunch in her office as soon as you can, Harry. She’s anxious to hear your report.”
“Thanks, Ginny,” Harry replied, but as he turned to go he found that she had actually moved closer. How does she do that? he thought for perhaps the hundredth time.
“I really didn’t get a chance the other day to tell you how happy I was to see that you were all right,” she whispered as she squeezed his hand and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
It took Harry a moment to react; but when he went to wrap her in his arms and give her a proper kiss, she had already slipped away.
No doubt about it, Harry noted, Lupin had a unique gift for banishing boggarts. He would just have to build his mental wall a little higher, he resolved.