Professor Lupin paused for a moment, then shook his head lightly.
"Don't misunderstand—what I want to show the students is in here."
As he spoke, he waited for all the students to enter before turning to close the door.
Just then, Professor Snape stood up slowly, letting out a cold snort.
"No need to close the door. I'd rather not witness your teaching."
He adjusted his robes, the black cloak swirling behind him as he strode to the doorway. On his way out, he shot Lupin a cold, withering glare.
**Bang!**
The wooden door slammed shut from the outside with a heavy thud.
The sound made Lupin's lashes tremble slightly. He absentmindedly rubbed the carvings on the end of his wand.
After a brief silence, he shook his head almost imperceptibly and turned around, his cloak drawing a graceful arc through the air as he moved toward the center of the room.
All eyes were on him.
"Seems Professor Snape isn't particularly enthusiastic about my class."
Lupin didn't seem fazed by Snape's hostility—he clearly had long since grown used to it.
He raised his hand and gestured for the students to move to the far side of the room.
There, an old wardrobe stood.
Lupin rapped on the side of the wardrobe with his knuckles. The cabinet gave a slight shudder.
Suddenly—
**Thump!**
**Thump!**
There were loud bangs from inside the wardrobe, and it began to shake.
Some students flinched and stepped back, startled. Lupin spoke reassuringly.
"No need to worry. The creature inside poses no real threat—it's just a Boggart."
*A Boggart?*
*What's that?*
Many students had never heard the term before, which meant they weren't scared at first. But now that Lupin had mentioned this strange-sounding name, a sense of unease settled over them.
Though it was mid-morning, the classroom felt shadowy and grim.
Those who *had* heard of Boggarts went silent, eyes locked on the trembling cabinet.
Its dark wooden panels creaked with age, the brass handles tapping against the door with each tremor.
**Tap. Tap. Tap.**
"Boggarts love to hide in the darkest corners," Lupin explained, tapping the wardrobe again with his wand.
"Under beds, inside cupboards, even in toilet tanks—you'll find them anywhere. Just the other day, Professor Flitwick caught one hiding in the broom closet."
He chuckled lightly.
"I happened to be nearby and borrowed it for this lesson."
As he spoke, he tapped the lock with his wand and the banging stopped instantly.
Turning back around, his shabby robes fluttered, brushing the tense brows of the front-row students.
"Can anyone tell me what a Boggart truly is?"
Hermione, sitting right next to Dylan, raised her hand immediately.
"Non-corporeal shape-shifter! It takes the form of whatever frightens the person looking at it!"
"Correct," Lupin smiled. "Or to put it more simply—it becomes whatever it thinks will scare us most."
He held his wand in one hand, the other gently stroking its tip.
"Right now, it's still in the dark, sensing us. But the moment I open that door—"
He paused for effect.
"—it'll become someone's worst fear. Like… Professor Snape holding your failed Potions essay."
**"Pfft—"**
The tension in the room cracked as stifled laughter spread among the students.
Dylan scratched his chin thoughtfully.
Lupin said Boggarts show up just about anywhere—but Dylan had been at Hogwarts for two years already, often exploring the hidden nooks and crannies. Yet he had never seen one.
And now suddenly Lupin had one ready for class?
*Do Boggarts choose who they appear to? Do they go for the camera-friendly types?*
As Lupin explained the Boggart's nature to the class, Dylan's thoughts wandered.
He wanted to try divining what form the Boggart might take for *him*.
If the Mirror of Erised revealed desire—then surely the Boggart revealed fear.
That, Dylan found fascinating.
Before becoming a wizard, he'd been fairly ordinary.
He was scared of ghosts. Ugly, weird-looking bugs. Maybe even a little afraid of heights (though he'd gotten over that quickly enough once he started flying).
Now, as a trained wizard…
He had mastered powerful spells through his achievement system.
Even Voldemort's younger form had once been captured by him.
*So what do I still fear?* Dylan wondered.
Ghosts?
He thought about his spells—**Exorcimodus**, **Wraithbind**, **Soul Snare**, **Eldritch Gaze**...
Plus the wand he possessed—infused with unique power and magical authority.
Even Dementors seemed ready to reduce themselves to house-elves around him.
Normal ghosts? They'd flee at the sight of him.
As for the weird bugs—
He tapped his chin.
"Nowadays, those Acromantulas run screaming when they see me. Some of their legs even go limp."
Dylan clicked his tongue.
He couldn't even find spiders to fight anymore. They were hiding in the Forbidden Forest, probably under orders from Aragog himself.
And fear of heights? Please.
Dylan could fly with a broom, by magic alone, by turning into a dragon, by riding a dragon, or on the back of a Hippogriff. Options galore.
"My power's more than enough now. What could I *possibly* fear?"
He flipped a coin and caught it.
As he opened his palm, his vision blurred.
Images flooded his mind.
Cedric collapsed, stiff and cold, a violet mark on his forehead from the Killing Curse.
Dumbledore's robes billowed on the Astronomy Tower before he fell.
Fred's smiling face frozen mid-laugh, lit by the flash of a dark magic explosion.
Snape, bitten through the throat by Nagini, blood bubbling violently.
More followed—some faces he recognized, others not.
Corpses. Some too mangled to identify.
They piled together, becoming a mountain of death.
Some wore Hogwarts robes. Others, Death Eater cloaks. Many were just ordinary people.
Then Dylan saw his parents.
Florin and his daughter, Vela.
*Wait...*
Was this really his fear?
*Was he afraid of corpses?*
It seemed ridiculous.
He had slain countless enemies. Corpses were tools—either for dark rituals or to raise as servants.
So no, he wasn't afraid of bodies.
What he *was* afraid of—was seeing *those* particular bodies.
The people he cared about.
"But I'd never let them die."
Dylan frowned.
This Boggart wasn't clever enough. Sure, the images made his heart twist, but they weren't real. He *wouldn't* let them become real.
*Maybe… maybe the Boggart just couldn't figure me out.*
It couldn't see the hollow places deep in his soul. So it stitched together tragic fragments from his memory and hoped for the best.
*Good thing I checked ahead,* Dylan thought.
*If this thing had shifted into that gruesome scene in front of everyone, it would've caused no end of trouble.*
He muttered a spell silently.
**Occlumency.** A shield around his mind.
Then he divined again—glimpsing the Boggart's next move if he cast **Exorcimodus** or **Soul Snare** on it.
In the vision, the Boggart let out a sharp laugh.
The corpse pile shimmered—like ripples across water.
Cedric sat up and started blowing bubbles through his nose.
Dumbledore's hair turned neon pink, and he began to waltz midair.
Snape crawled into Nagini's mouth, leaving only his oversized backside sticking out, wiggling.
"...Merlin's pants, now *that's* terrifying."
Dylan grimaced.
Compared to the earlier vision, this was far worse—pure nightmare fuel.
He had to admit: **after** his spells interfered with the Boggart's magic, it got... *weird*.
Snape doing *that*? No way.
Dylan quickly cast again, reshaping the Boggart into a ridiculous clown. Then he divined repeatedly, confirming it wouldn't revert to anything traumatic or bizarre.
Only then did he breathe easier.
Meanwhile, Lupin stood before the class.
He motioned for everyone to gather.
"Now, to defeat a Boggart, you need more than just the spell—you need to *mock* your fear."
"The incantation is **Riddikulus**. Roll your 'R', press your tongue to your upper gums. Add a bit of flair—the charm works best with a sense of humor."
"But the syllables alone won't help. The real power is in your courage to make fear look foolish."
"Put a tutu on a spider. Stick jingle bells on a Dementor's hood."
After leading the class in repeating the spell three times, he added:
"And don't forget—laughter."
"To banish fear, you need to laugh at it. That laughter powers the charm."
He tapped on the shaking wardrobe.
The brass ring clinked against the door as muffled bangs sounded from within.
The students lined up.
They were nervous, but—if they were honest—also a little excited.
Even in the face of fear, with a professor close by, it was like riding a roller coaster.
Hermione clutched her wand tightly, her eyes fixed on the cabinet.
All her earlier anxiety forgotten.
Further back, Neville was huddled beside Dylan.
"Alright," Lupin called, "first student—step up when you're ready."
Students stepped forward one by one.
As Lupin fully released the Boggart, gray mist poured from the wardrobe.
The first student gasped.
Beside Dylan, Neville trembled slightly.
Dylan tilted his head. "You afraid of anything in particular?"
Neville swallowed. "I… I don't really know."
Dylan blinked. "Then what are you afraid of?"
Neville blinked back. "Uh… not knowing what I'm afraid of. That's what makes it scary."
He paused, surprised by his own words.
Dylan just smiled.