2 weeks since Frieren arrived on Earth – 10 days until the start of classes – 22/8
Frieren
"Alright, just a couple more exercises and we'll be done for today. I'll leave you some homework for when you have free time, alright?"
"Mhm-hm… fine, Professor Burbage…"
"Hahaha, don't take it so badly, you're making incredible progress."
"Thank you…"
Learning a new language was hard, even for someone like her—with such a good memory and magic to help
Frieren could only lament the extra time the grimoires of this world would remain protected from her.
"I'll tell you what: if you complete all the exercises for the next session, I'll take you on a trip to the Muggle world," said the professor, pulling her out of her daydream.
Professor Burbage was the Muggle Studies teacher —now also Frieren's English teacher— and probably the one who knew the most about them in the whole school except for the students from Muggle families.
She had told her about boxes that showed people talking without magic or tiny little people inside, devices to transmit voices incredibly far away or to communicate with others, cars, airplanes—hundreds of marvelous things that did not use magic.
"That would have to wait until I've mastered concealment spells…"
"Pfft, it's not that big a deal—we could just put something on your head, and worst-case scenario, I can cast the spells myself! Nobody will notice, Jujuju I've been wanting to go to one of those cinemas I've heard so much about… or maybe we should go to an arcade…"
The mutterings stopped when, from one of the pipe openings in the wall, a magical bubble was spat out. It floated until it reached them and then burst.
Pop!
Suddenly, Albus's voice began to sound:
"[Frieren, Professor Burbage, I apologize for interrupting your study session, but an incident of extreme urgency has arisen. Please meet me in the staff room.]"
"What was that?" Frieren asked with interest.
"A recording bubble. It captures a person's words and releases them when the bubble reaches its destination. Hogwarts has an entire system for sending them."
The witch then approached another pipe opening and placed her wand against her lips:
"[Received, we're on our way.]"
"Seems useful… I'd like to learn it."
"Haha, you've said that about everything I've explained so far… Recording bubbles are far from perfect—the message can only be heard once, and if no one's there to hear it, it's lost. Nowadays there are more efficient systems, but the castle is old and renovations are expensive, so we keep it as long as it works" the professor dismissed.
"Oh… what do you think happened?" asked Frieren, making a mental note to learn that incredible magic.
"I don't know, let's find out. Maybe something happened to one of the professors? Snape and the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher hasn't arrived yet, I'm looking forward to meeting him..."
.
.
The gazes of those present shifted around the room. Nearly twenty people had gathered in the rather spacious staff room—not counting the living portraits, whose frames were crowded with figures that didn't match the backgrounds of their paintings.
Frieren had had some time to meet everyone, even if only to introduce herself, and what a strange collection they were. Some stranger than others, she thought, remembering her encounter with the Divination professor, and how she had dashed off, muttering, after Frieren sneezed seven times because of the pollen that had gotten up her nose
"Oi, what's this all about? Does anyone know?" asked Professor Hooch in her usual brusque tone. The woman had a strong personality that Frieren had come to appreciate, thanks to their mutual interest in each other's flying.
Those brooms had given her a few ideas.
"Dark revelations are approaching…" muttered the Divination professor with a wild-eyed look.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has received troubling news that may affect Hogwarts this year, and it is necessary that all teaching staff be informed," Minerva told those present.
"Tch, what will it be this year? We've had a worrying streak lately…" Frieren overheard the flying instructor muttering to herself.
Conversations stopped when the old Headmaster finally appeared through the door.
"Thank you all for coming. Unfortunately, Professor Snape and Professor Lupin have had some inconveniences delaying their arrival. Nothing to worry about—I will take care of informing them personally," he began his explanation aloud, drawing everyone's attention.
"The Minister has revealed information to me that could shape this school year at Hogwarts. I must say that what I'm about to share has not yet been made public, and the Ministry prefers it to remain that way. So I must ask you, please, to keep it to yourselves." He paused; everyone nodded or otherwise indicated their agreement before continuing.
"Very well… I'm sorry to say that a few days ago, after a visit by the Minister to Azkaban, the prisoner Sirius Black successfully escaped from the prison…" He let the information sink in.
"His whereabouts are unknown. The Ministry is doing everything possible to find and recapture him, but their efforts so far have been fruitless and with the school year approaching, the Ministry fears that Sirius may be stalking the castle in search of revenge…"
This seemed to awaken fear in several professors and portraits alike.
"You don't mean to say…" someone left the sentence hanging.
"Yes. Sirius may be seeking revenge against young Harry," Albus finished.
"Harry…" Hagrid seemed one of the most affected.
"The Ministry is already suggesting plans and countermeasures to increase the castle's defenses in case they cannot capture him in time."
"Will they send Aurors?" This time it was Flitwick who asked.
A bitter look crossed the Headmaster's face.
"Yes, but I fear the Ministry is also determined to use Dementors to search for him, and I have not been able to dissuade them."
"What are Dementors?" Frieren whispered to Hagrid.
"Dementors are dark spectral beings… the creatures parents use to scare children into behaving. They feed on people's happiness and can rip your soul out in seconds if you let them get too close. The Ministry has some way of controlling them to keep prisoners in Azkaban—the most secure prison in the world—but it's not perfect. If by chance a child were to stumble across one... nothing guarantees the Dementor wouldn't hurt them." He sounded genuinely afraid of them. Perhaps he had had some encounter with them before?
"Due to these events, I would not feel at ease if we, as responsible, did nothing. Baron, I want the ghosts to patrol the castle, especially at night. Portraits, I want you to be alert for any intruders. Launcher, warn the other elves to stay vigilant. The nightly watch schedules will remain the same as in previous years, but if anyone wishes to volunteer for additional shifts, all extra help is welcome. If new updates from the Ministry arise, I will share them with you. Thank you for listening."
They spoke a little more about possible countermeasures and emergency alerts. Little by little, everyone began to disperse. Frieren was about to go practice spells with Flitwick when Albus called her.
"Frieren, could you stay a moment? I'd like to speak with you about something."
"Mhm" She turned toward the little professor. "Go on ahead, I'll be there shortly."
When they were alone, Albus let out a weary sigh.
"Forgive me for not being more present. As you can see, problems keep piling up one after another. I hope everyone has been treating you well?"
"Mhm. Minerva, Hagrid, Filius, and Charity have been kind to me. The others as well, though I haven't spent as much time with them."
"Mmmm, I see. It's good to hear. I've also heard you've been integrating well. I called you because I'd like to ask you for a favor…"
"Tell me."
"You said you wanted to ride the Hogwarts Express, didn't you? I'd like you to make the journey with the children. I have a bad feeling about this year… Lupin has already agreed to go as well, but due to certain circumstances, I'm afraid he may need some help..."
It was true she had wanted to ride that magical train, but…
"What time did you say it leaves?"
"You'll leave here at 10 through the Floo Network, the train will depart from the station at 11 toward Hogsmeade and Hagrid will meet you at the station, where you'll be able to accompany the first-year students on the traditional boat ride."
"Mhm, alright. Just… warn someone to wake me up, just in case. I'm not good at waking up early…"
.
.
3 weeks since Frieren arrived on Earth – September 1st – 10:17 in the morning, Hogwarts
Frieren's peaceful sleep was disturbed by a distant background sound.
Pam! Pam! Pam!
"Frieren! Frieren! Wake up, you're late!" Hagrid shouted at the door.
"Mhgm…" She pushed the call to wakefulness aside and sank back into her dream. That mountain of infinite grimoires wouldn't climb itself—it was her duty to reach the summit and obtain the ultimate grimoire.
Pam! Pam! Crack! The door gave way from its frame.
Bam!!
"Oh!? Hm… this was already broken… pardon me…"
But… what if the ultimate grimoire was the friends you made along the way?
No, no, that couldn't be…
"Mgfm… five more hours…" She fought to keep climbing the mountain, wrapping herself in her protective blankets, shielding herself from the giant's shaking.
"You sleep deeper than Fluffy listening to classical music… alright then, it'll have to be the hard way." said the half-giant.
"Nibsy, Tinka!"
Pop! Two house-elves appeared in the room.
"Hello, Mister Hagrid, what could we do to help you?"
"Miss Frieren is late—she should already be on the Hogwarts train. Could you…"
"Of course!" the elves interrupted, sounding almost sly and mischievous for some reason.
Pop!
"…get her dressed and take her to the station," Hagrid finished, staring at the pile of vanished blankets.
Slowly, the half-giant slid out of the now-empty room as quietly as possible. He looked both ways down the corridor, and when he saw no one, he lifted the door back into its frame and left without saying anything.
-Platform Nine and Three-Quarters-
Neville Longbottom
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was as full as ever, crowded with parents who stayed to see their children off until the train departed. He could already see several of his friends waving from the windows.
Today Neville had been delayed looking for Trevor, he only hoped there would still be room with his friends…
"Do you have everything, Neville? Your books? Your clothes? Remember to feed Trevor, and make sure to have fun. Ah... you remind me of your father when… "
"Yess... Gran, don't worry, I checked twice already…" He cut her off before her goodbyes made him miss the train.
"Oh, my little Neville is leaving again… remember to write me letters, alright? And straighten that back, young man—you're a Gryffindor. Come here, give your grandmother two kisses."
"Gran! People are watching…"
Two kisses later, Neville turned to board the train—only to be caught in a strong embrace.
"Neville, please be careful. If you come across that madman, don't play the hero. Come back home…"
Neville felt a lump forming in his throat. His grandmother always kept a tough façade, and now she sounded fragile. He knew why: Black's escape had brought back terrible memories for the Longbottom family. Even if the escapee wasn't the one who had tortured his parents, if one could escape, there was no guarantee another couldn't.
"Don't worry, Gran. I'll be fine," Neville said, putting all his courage and confidence into his words.
"That's all I ask, dear." With that, she let him go, and Neville climbed aboard the train, trying not to think about the murderer on the loose.
Come on, come on, let there be a spot…
No luck. Seamus and Dean's compartment was already full. And Harry, Hermione, and Ron's…
"Sorry, Neville, as you can see there isn't much space left," Hermione said, pointing at the shabby-looking man asleep in the seats.
"O-oh, that's fine, I'll look somewhere else. Nice to see you again, guys," he replied quickly, eager to get away from the man who looked like a tramp.
There can't have been many seats available if they chose to sit there.
Occupied.
Occupied.
Occupied.
When Neville began to think he'd have to squeeze into a Slytherin compartment, he finally saw one that looked empty. The only problem was…
Another one?! What's with this year? Everyone falling asleep on the train?
Worse still, this one had wrapped herself up like a cocoon in blankets, showing only her face, looking like some kind of caterpillar. A first-year? How crazy were things going to get this year? Still, it was better than Slytherins… maybe it wouldn't be so bad, as long as she didn't wake up?
His thoughts were interrupted when the compartment door opened again.
"Fred…"
"George…"
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
"Another sleeping beauty?"
"You're thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Do you doubt it?"
Neville began to panic when he saw one of the Weasley twins pull out one of those magical permanent markers that really should have been banned from school.
"W-wait, isn't that too much?" he tried to protest.
"Oh does little Neville want to be her hero?" said one.
"That'll definitely make you popular with the girls… I suppose you'll have to thank us for it then, won't you, Neville?" continued the other.
"Oh Neville, you're so innocent…"
"Trust us, it's nothing personal…"
"She's just collateral damage…"
"In our mission to spread our legend among the first-years…"
"It's also a lesson—never let your guard down."
"Exactly! Thanks to us, she'll rise to fame!"
How had things turned so that they looked like the good guys and their victim the one who ought to be grateful? Neville would never understand.
His attempts to stop them were equally unsuccessful. They even froze him in place so he wouldn't interfere, which earned him a nice "hero" doodled across his forehead.
When the twins finally unfroze him, Neville sat exhausted in his seat, feeling a little guilty for the girl. She hadn't even stirred! Slept like a rock the whole time. At least the twins had promised to erase it before her Sorting.
Conversation drifted to different topics—Sirius, whether he would really go after Harry, the new professors. Outside, rain had begun to fall, ruining what had been a nice day.
"And tell us, Neville, how were your holidays?" asked one. He wasn't really sure which.
"Good… my grandmother took me to lots of gardens this summer. We even traveled to Singapore to visit a famous one. It was really beautiful…"
"Oh? Good for you. Our family went on holiday too."
"Egypt, right? I saw it in the paper, I think."
"Yeah, hahaha. Ron won't stop showing it to everyone. I think he's got it framed in his room."
"Little Ron likes to brag. Our family won the lottery, so we went to visit our older brother—he works breaking curses in Egypt. Thanks to him, we got to enter many pyramids and forbidden tombs."
"Awesome… did you see any Isis flowers? Or Pharaoh's Lilies? They're regional magical plants that only grow there. I wish I could go to see them…" Neville couldn't help saying.
"Well, dear Neville, as a matter of fact—" the twin stopped when the train shook. No, not shook… it was braking.
"We haven't arrived yet, have we, brother?"
"Nope, there should still be a couple of hours…"
The train was no longer moving. Neville could already hear the nervous conversations in the carriage when a violent jolt nearly threw him to the floor.
The train went completely dark.
Before the nervous chatter could turn into screams of fear, the air grew heavy and oppressive silencing everyone.
Thump-thump.
Everything was silent now. The only thing Neville could hear was his heart hammering in his chest.
Thump-thump.
"O-oi, I think I saw something out there…" one of the twins said in a strangled whisper looking out the window. Gone were the jokes and laughter.
But neither that nor the mist of his breath registered in his mind.
The only thought Neville had was—
Is it here? Has Sirius Black come to kill Harry?
The other brother opened his mouth to reply, but whatever answer he had died in his throat as frost began to creep over the windowpanes
The pressure on his shoulders turned into a terror that clutched at his heart.
A shadow had appeared on the glass of the door that led to the corridor, stealing the breath from his lungs.
His whole being was torn between telling himself to run—to get away from there—and telling himself to stay still, to wait until the predator was gone.
Neville had never been so afraid. His body trembled like a leaf in the wind, his back soaked with cold sweat and goosebumps all over, his eyes—which had started to water at some point—couldn't look away from the shadow slowly moving down the corridor
Thump-thump.
Neville felt the shadow's attention on them.
Don't stop
Don't stop, please. He begged in his mind.
He didn't dare move, he didn't dare breathe. The possibility that the shadow might hear his heart pounding in his chest terrified him.
The moment passed, and the shadow quickened its pace, slipping out of his sight.
The pressure eased again, but his body kept trembling. The twins, for the first time since he'd known them, were speechless; they clutched each other's arms as if to protect the other, yet the tremor in their hands and the pallor on their faces were still evident.
He was safe: the shadow had passed him by; it hadn't come for him… but the tears kept flowing. The reflection of his face in the door's metal frame was like a slap in the face.
"Hero"
The joke, once harmless, now felt like a red-hot nail. He had been glad—he had been glad—that the killer passed him by, that it was going after his friends.
Slowly, Neville stood upefore he could even think, he knew that if he did, he'd freeze up; and his only certainty at that moment was that if he stayed still at that moment—if he didn't do something—he would regret it; that all his efforts would have been in vain, and that he'd be nothing but a fraud in the house of lions.
He'd told his gran… that he'd be fine… that he wouldn't play the hero…
Neville was a coward, he always had been. He scared too easily. That was why he had wanted to be in Gryffindor, why his Sorting Day had been the best day of his life. He couldn't help feeling fear, but he swore to face it—for his parents, his friends, and himself.
Still trembling, but driven by some strange energy, he slid the compartment door open, bracing for something—anything. But when he saw it, he froze.
There, standing in the middle of the corridor, was a specter straight out of his nightmares.
Thump-thump.
A thousand thoughts raced wildly through Neville's mind, but the most important was—
Harry, Hermione, Ron—his friends. That thing was right in front of their compartment.
The specter turned its head toward him.
MOVE, YOU STUPID BODY! But he didn't move. His hand still clutched the door handle so tightly his knuckles were white.
He couldn't move. The tears on his face began to freeze and the world seemed to have turned opaque, as if all happiness and positive thoughts had vanished.
The specter began to approach, as if pleased that its meal had come looking for it.
Oh..
How foolish he had been: he'd focused so much on saving his friends that he'd forgotten himself. Of course he wasn't going to conjure limitless strength out of nowhere and defeat the villain.
He had broken the promise he'd made to his grandmother.
This wasn't a fairy tale.
Neville would never be a…
"!!!"
In a world utterly motionless, the sudden movement caught at the corner of his eye felt like a beacon to his attention; still frozen, the first thing to come clearly into view was a staff—unlike any he had ever seen before—aimed at the specter.
Then a hand rested on Neville's shoulder—so light he could barely feel it, yet so present it seemed it could hold up the world—his world.
"Zoltraak."
A flash, and the specter's upper half vanished, leaving a momentary circular rim before the creature faded away.
"Die, monster," said a woman's voice, cold as ice.
There she was, standing as if nothing had happened—the girl from his compartment with the sheets still wrapped around her body with a look even more terrifying than Snape's, she was staring at something he couldn't see.
His world, until then stripped of all positive emotion, reeled as a wave of hope and admiration hit him.
Neville couldn't look away. At some point, he remembered to breathe, but neither the sound of the conversations around him coming back to life nor the heads peeking out of the compartments made him look away from the figure of his savior—the figure of his…
"Hero..."
A second passed before his mind stopped stumbling and the realization that he'd said it out loud reached his brain.
!!? idiot.Why did you say…
"I thought they had them under control…" he heard the girl mutter and a sigh escaped his lips when Neville realized she hadn't heard him. Then she shifted her gaze to him—fortunately, not with the look she'd had a few seconds ago, but with one of curiosity, accompanied by a slight tilt of her head.
Her hair slipped aside, revealing her non-human ears, and Neville blushed when he was caught staring at them.
She spun her staff in a complete circle.
Where did she get that from ?
"They're coming closer… why?"
How am I supposed to know?!
Luckily, at that moment, the door to his friends' compartment opened and a scruffy-looking man stepped out, saving him from having to answer.
"Was that you?" he asked, looking in her direction.
"Mhm. You must be Professor Lupin?"
"Yes. You must be Frieren, right? Thanks for the help… what a mess…" He gave her a strange look at her face.
"It's not over. More are coming… should I kill them?" she asked, and Neville had no doubt that she could.
"No! No, they're still part of the Ministry. I'll take care of it." He immediately cast a spell
"Expecto Patronum!"
Another advanced spell, Neville thought, as he watched light radiate in waves from the professor's wand.
"They really left… what was that spell?" asked the girl—Frieren? A professor?
"Expecto Patronum is the crystallization of our best memories. Very useful for repelling creatures with dark affinity."
Before the conversation could continue, the professor—Lupin?—looked around; noise and movement had begun to spread through the train like wildfire, now that the atmosphere had returned to normal and the lights had come back on.
"SILENCE! EVERYONE BACK TO YOUR COMPARTMENTS! THE PROBLEM HAS BEEN RESOLVED AND NOW WE WILL BE CONDUCTING CHECKS," He said, amplifying his voice with his wand.
Reluctantly, the students obeyed, though not without complaints.
Neville also headed back to his compartment, but not before casting one last glance at the two professors—especially at her.
"First, we'll check on the students. Then we'll patrol the surroundings. You start at the front, I'll take the back." That was the last Neville heard before closing his compartment door.
"Guys… you really might have picked the wrong person to prank this time…" Neville told the twins, who were looking paler than before.
"Fred…"
"George…"
""Time to disappear…""
Yes, it's dramatic, but where's the fun if Frieren just mentions in passing that she swatted a few flies after her nap?
I'll take this opportunity to say there will be no Time-Turners in this novel—they're just too game-breaking. I don't want to be constantly worrying about how the plot would change if characters could just turn back time, or making up excuses for why they don't.
As always, your help and positive comments are appreciated.
Frieren
Fortunately, the rest of the trip to the school went smoothly. The dementor incident didn't happen again, but it had clearly left Lupin uncomfortable.
Frieren didn't quite understand his logic. Those creatures were obviously monsters; even if a trainer had tamed them, their instincts were still the same.
There was a reason monster tamers were so rare in her world: nobody wanted to be near a creature whose first instinct was to eat you.
They'd been lucky no child was hurt, and Lupin had the trolley lady hand out chocolate to everyone (even to her). Apparently it helped counteract the effect of the dementors' presence.
It was good that the professor accompanying her was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; she would have simply eliminated them without knowing what else to do, Frieren reflected as she nibbled her chocolate.
It would be best to warn Albus...
She would wisely propose increasing precautions—or even getting rid of the creatures altogether…
"Pfff," she heard a strangled snicker and immediately turned to shoot a nasty look—combined with what definitely wasn't a pout—at the student who quickly looked away.
Was it so funny to see an elf? In Diagon Alley, nobody had laughed at her… was it the pajamas?
Without a Fern to protect her from annoying children, the best she could do was escape go back to her compartment.
"Hup," stepping in and startling its only other occupant. She remembered him…
"You're the 'hero' boy from the corridor." It wasn't a question; she could see the word engraved on his forehead.
Some kind of tradition in this world? It was the first time she'd seen it.
Turning completely red at what she'd said, the boy straightened up and wrestled with himself in a very funny way before finally speaking. "H-hello, m-my name is Neville… thank you very much for defeating the dementor." He bowed deeply.
" I'm Frieren and that's what I'm here for, you were brave to open the door." Truly very brave—no other student had dared to step into the corridor before she killed the monster.
"No! I… I couldn't do anything, I froze with fear…"
"Everyone did, but only one of you dared to open the door, be more careful next time. " She cut off his self-reproach with a light tap of her staff on his head. This was a good kid; he reminded her of Stark.
"Next...??"
Half-mute from shame or shyness, the boy seemed to remember something. "Here, take this…" He offered her a handkerchief that carried a bit of magic.
"Hmm? What for…?"
"The Weasley twins left it so you could…" Neville took out a small mirror to show her reflection.
Frieren thought about all the odd looks she'd gotten, and about the two twins who had been in the compartment when she woke up but were now conveniently gone… Feeling her cheeks puff up, she grabbed the handkerchief, wrapped herself in her sheets, and curled into a ball.
Annoying brats...
While Frieren pouted and washed up her face, she imagined how Himmel or Fern would have punished those brats for it…
"Hmph. Fine—but that will count as a warning… on the third time…" she muttered to herself.
"W-what will happen the third time?" the boy asked fearfully, interrupting her wandering thoughts.
"I'll throw a tantrum and get very angry," Frieren answered with deadly seriousness.
"A-aren't you an adult?"
What did that have to do with it?
"Yes," she smiled and struck an elegant, noble pose which would have been more effective if she weren't in pajamas, but the boy clearly understood her greatness.
"Um, Miss Frieren, will you be a teacher at Hogwarts too?" he asked, fiddling with his sleeves.
"No, though I will help or participate in some classes… I'm here on other business."
"A-are you going to help in Herbology too?? Last year I ended up fainting from a mandrake's scream… though that was my fault…" he said, embarrassed.
Herbology, huh… Frieren thought of her favorite spell.
"Sounds like a good class. Maybe I'll ask Professor Sprout if I can take a look."
"Greaaat! I've heard this year we'll learn to harvest Puffapods! They're magical plants with very delicate pink pods and you have to be really careful with them because if you drop them the pods will open and when the seeds touch the ground they'll bloom immediately anywhere! You have to be very delicate…" Frieren listened attentively, amused by the contrast between the timid, embarrassed boy and the one suddenly full of energy and plant facts.
Only when the train began to slow, signaling they had arrived at Hogsmeade Station, did the boy—Neville—realize he'd been rambling nonstop for twenty minutes, and he turned red again.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"Here." Frieren cut off his apology, holding the handkerchief out to him.
"Oh, there's no need—you can keep it…"
The elf smiled and gestured toward her forehead.
"Oh…"
Can someone die of embarrassment? Frieren didn't know, but it seemed the boy was making a good attempt.
Neville Longbottom
Fleeing the compartment as fast as he could without drawing more attention, Neville felt his face burning with shame.
He'd forgotten about the paint on his own forehead!
The carriage corridors were jam-packed with people all trying to get out at once. It would be easier to step off and look for his friends than to try to find them right there.
He needed to see how Harry, Ron, and Hermione were doing…
"Hello," called a soft voice.
Turning around, he found a girl… she was a second-year…
What was her name… Luci… Lau… Luna! That's it!
She was the strangest girl in the school; she'd even earned the nickname Loony Lovegood for wearing odd hats like the shamanic Plimpy crest she had on now and for her ramblings about make-believe creatures.
"Would you like a special copy of The Quibbler?" she offered him an issue.
"No, no, tha—" His refusal was cut off when he saw a moving photograph of Miss Frieren on the cover. "Is that…?"
"Yes! Miss Frieren granted me her first interview! For some reason we're getting more complaints about the veracity of the content than usual… but we even delayed our issue so we could print it in color! Do you want a copy?"
"I—uh, yes, yes please, I'll take one."
"Perfect!"
Now, with a copy in hand, Neville watched the girl glide—almost dancing—down the carriage, offering more copies to other students.
Blushing at having stared for too long, he hurriedly got off the carriage. Outside there were even more people, but the wider space let him spot his friends.
The three of them seemed fine.
"Guys!"
Frieren
"Oi, Frieren! Over here," Hagrid shouted to get her attention.
"There really was an attack? Is everyone all right? I heard some students say an army of dementors almost derailed the train and—"
"Mhm, there was an attack… though nothing that exaggerated. One got onto the train. I killed it."
"Thank goodness—wait, YOU KILLED IT?! How did—no… doesn't matter for now. You did the right thing. The last thing Hogwarts and the Ministry need is a student hurt because of them."
That was true. They hadn't managed to recapture the murderer and had been forced to reveal his escape; now there were "wanted" posters everywhere.
Something caught Frieren's attention: a student bumping into an odd-looking horse, and his friends laughing because he tripped "alone".
"Are those the Thestrals you mentioned?"
"What?" He followed her line of sight. "Oh, yes—elegant creatures, aren't they?"
Frieren kept her opinion to herself.
"Oi!! You've been told not to go near the front of the carriages—go to your seats!" he yelled from afar.
"They're well trained, but they get stressed like any horse if you bother them…" Hagrid explained, returning to his usual gentle tone. "Come on, we'll take the boats—it's tradition."
Once all the second-years and up had gone, the half-giant and the elf led the procession of first-years to the lake's edge. She even spotted little Astoria already making friends.
Climbing into the boats, Frieren felt content. There was a kind of nervous energy in the air—the students flickered from anxious to expectant to awestruck at a comical pace.
Sitting down, she allowed herself to relax into the boat's gentle motion. For these children, a new stage of life was beginning—this was the start of their adventure. Soon the boats began to move on their own and the view of the castle spread out before them. Even having seen it inside and out, the new perspective and feeling were magical—beyond magic. Few people truly appreciated the beauty around them in their day-to-day lives. The eyes—the windows to the soul, as they were also called—could take in the world's beauty like no other sense: the castle, the stars, the lights, the reflections, the cracks, the moss… Everything was heightened by the other senses—the sound and caress of the wind, the smell of dampness, the feel of wood underfoot. Stilling all her thoughts to appreciate the majesty of moments like this was one of many reasons she valued her travels so much.
Even the children, with their boundless nervous energy, sat silently enthralled by the sight.
Later, once inside the castle, they split off from the group—leaving it to Minerva—and headed on ahead to the Great Hall.
From the staff table, Frieren enjoyed the frog choir and the Sorting. The girl Artoria seemed happy to join Slytherin along with her older sister. Finally it was time for the introduction as Albus stepped up onto the little podium in front of everyone.
"Welcome to Hogwarts for another year. As always, I'd like to say a few words before you enjoy this marvelous feast and its delicacies. First, I would like to introduce the three latest additions to the staff," he said, pausing for effect.
"Professor R. J. Lupin, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Best of luck, Professor." The now more presentable man, stood to give a small bow amid the students' applause.
"Rubeus Hagrid, our beloved gamekeeper, who will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures and will replace Professor Silvanus, who has decided to retire and enjoy more time with the one arm he still has. A round of applause, please." With rather more clumsiness, Hagrid also stood up, nearly overturning the table.
This time the applause was very loud—there were even cheers and whistles. Looking at her companion, Frieren wasn't surprised to see tears beginning to well up.
They must be very fond of him…
She slowly lowered the plates and goblets she'd levitated to keep them from spilling and prepared for her turn.
"Lastly, I would like to introduce the great elven mage Frieren, an extraordinary sorceress who will stay to observe and learn how we do things at Hogwarts for a time. From what I've heard, it seems she has already crossed paths with the Weasley twins." He turned to her with a smiling nod as laughter rippled through the room. They had agreed not to hide that she came from another world, but also not to mention it actively, to keep things calm.
Frieren stood, making the contrast between Hagrid's colossal size and her own even more obvious. The students greeted her with a mix of applause, murmurs, disbelief, laughter, and pointing. She didn't much care. With a small bow, she happily focused on what she would choose from the prepared buffet.
"With that done… we move on to less cheerful matters. At the Ministry of Magic's request, Hogwarts will, until further notice, be under the protection of the Dementors of Azkaban. Outings from the castle without supervision will be strongly limited, and straying from Hogwarts grounds is strictly forbidden. Until Sirius Black is captured, the dementors and aurors will watch all approaches to this place. Though they have pledged not to disturb our activities, I recommend caution… dementors feed on happiness and are not fooled by tricks or appearances. Therefore, I must ask each and every one of you not to give them reason or opportunity to harm you… it is not in a dementor's nature to be compassionate… but do not fear— as you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times… if one only remembers to turn on the light…" With that ominous speech, Dumbledore returned to his seat.
"I can't believe he said it… I told him to skip the dramatic lines this year…" Frieren heard Minerva murmur beside her.
"Mhm. All old wizards are the same—they can't help themselves…"
Well, this was the perfect moment. A glance around showed no one was paying her any attention.
"Verto vera," she whispered softly. Immediately, tails and fur sprouted from the goblets the twins were drinking from.
"Seriously?" Minerva asked, amused, as she watched the chaos at her House table.
"Hum hum hum, I don't know what you're talking about… I don't have my staff with me."
"I didn't say anything about magic…"
…oops.
.
.
"Albus."
"Frieren, come in. Professor Lupin was just telling me about the dementor."
"As I was saying… it was my mistake letting them get so close. If it hadn't been for Frieren, a student might have been hurt…" The man seemed to feel guilty about it.
"It isn't your fault, Lupin. You weren't in the best condition—I knew that. That's why I urged Frieren to take the train with you. What matters is that the dementors lost control, and that should never have happened—especially not so near students," Albus lamented.
Frieren felt a bit sorry for him; not even a day into the school year and there were already problems.
"The Ministry must have something to control them, right? Otherwise they wouldn't feel so comfortable using them. Ask for it," Frieren suggested. with a spectral creature it had to be something magical…
"Hmm, yes, there are objects for that purpose… They've refused my previous attempts to obtain them, but now… they won't be able to say no. I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow morning. You two, well done," the old man nodded.
With that finished, both left the office.
"Frieren… again, thank you for your help."
"It's fine. Those monsters aren't particularly strong."
And we both fell asleep...
"... you're probably one of the few who can say that about dementors… Though I suppose that's the best way to view things. I'll soon be giving my first Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. I was wondering if you'd like to come take a look. I'm thinking of bringing a boggart. They're not too dangerous, but it depends a bit on whose fear it focuses on. I'm afraid that when it's the turn of students like young Neville or Harry, it could become something a bit too dangerous. A little extra help wouldn't hurt…"
Frieren stopped to look him straight in the eyes.
"Mhm. All right—you can count on me."
It seemed interesting.
.
.
"An-and then they knocked out the troll with its own club—HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Hagrid's laughter echoed through the forest.
Hagrid and Frieren had arranged to talk and polish the details of the class before starting it. One thing had led to another, and the half-giant had ended up telling her his favorite students' crazy adventures.
"Those kids… if I didn't know better I'd think they were trying to give me a heart attack… Just last year Harry faced a basilisk. All the professors are tiptoeing around, waiting for the next crazy adventure to drop…"
"You care about them," Frieren observed the obvious.
"Yeah… those little ones have grown on me. I'll never be able to repay them for clearing my name…" he confessed as they approached the hippogriff.
Frieren kept her distance; the creature had never managed to relax near her no matter how deferential she was—probably because of its more developed magical instincts.
"He's a beautiful creature, isn't he? A bit gluttonous, but he's a good lad."
"Beeeek!"
"No, I didn't say fat. Here, take this…" He tossed it a little dead animal, which soothed the creature.
"All right, you stay around here—don't leave the pen and behave. You know there'll be treats if you do." He stroked the handsome plumage fondly. The creature was as big as a horse, but next to the half-giant it didn't seem so impressive.
"Blimey, look at the time… I can't be late to my first class. Frieren, could you grab my creatures book while I go get the students? It's on the kitchen shelf."
"Go. See you in front of the hut."
"Thanks—I owe you one."
Harry Potter
"Do you think the Grim has anything to do with Sirius Black?" Ron asked as they followed Hagrid.
"Are you kidding? You can't seriously believe all that fortune-telling nonsense, can you?" Hermione replied, almost sounding offended by the suggestion.
She really doesn't like Divination, huh…
"I've decided to switch my elective to Ancient Runes. It's much more useful and fascinating than that imprecise discipline."
"I suppose… What do you think about this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—Professor Lupin?" Harry asked.
"Mmm. I had my doubts about his work ethic when he fell asleep in the train compartment, but later he showed knowledge and practical mastery of the subject. He can't be worse than Professor Lockhart, can he?" Hermione answered again.
"Well, you're not setting the bar very high… What about the other one?" He tossed the question into the air, hoping Hermione would know something, but to his surprise, she didn't.
"Why do you two always act like I have to know everything? I don't know everything that happens in the world…" She frowned, but Harry knew her well— that hint of indignation and frustration meant…
"Okay, maybe I did get up early to have a look in the library this morning… but I didn't find anything about her or about the race she belongs to. It's strange… The rumors I've heard didn't make much sense either…"
Unexpectedly, this time the source of wisdom was Ron. "Oh, I heard about her. Dad talked about the big fuss her arrival caused. Seems like it's something the Ministry prefers not to spread around. It has something to do with the Department of Mysteries and with her being from another world… That's why she's not in the library—she's an 'elf'; they don't exist here."
"…"
"…"
"What? I can know things too, you know?!"
"You're kidding?? Another world?" Hermione demanded.
"Is that common in the wizarding world?" Harry asked more hesitantly.
"It's never happened before… not that I know of… but I'm not sure," Ron replied, raising his hands appeasingly toward Hermione.
"How can you not know?? Of course it hasn't happened before. Ugh, I'm surrounded by dunderheads… Are you even sure it's true and not… well, another made-up story like Lockhart's?"
Harry thought about it briefly before intervening. "Dumbledore backs her, doesn't he? He himself said she's a great mage, so some of it has to be true, right?"
"Like Lockhart?" Ron shot back.
"Right… good point. Does it matter? It's not like she's going to teach us or anything… Right now I'm more worried about Sirius Black."
"You're not thinking of…"
"Don't do anything stupid, Harry. The fact that we came out of previous craziness in one piece isn't a reason to repeat it. This is serious, and if anything happens we'll call the professors," Hermione scolded.
"Guys, I'm not planning to do anything. Who would want to get near a murderer?!"
"The same people who would want to get near a basilisk. This year I want a quiet, boring course for once."
"Yeah… I could do without facing a murderer too…" Ron agreed.
"Everyone, come closer and pay atention" Hagrid began as they approached his hut.
"Today I've prepared a special class since it's the first, but it's important you pay attention for your own safety. First of all, open to page 49. Be careful opening your books— to do it safely…" As they got closer they began to hear strange noises coming from the hut. "…you have to stroke… the spine… I should've told her that, shouldn't I?" he muttered the last part to himself.
Quickening his pace, Hagrid yanked the hut door open.
"Frieren!! Don't open the—" In his hut, which he had visited so many times with his friends, things were even more of a mess than usual, and on the floor, in the middle of a fight for her life, the elf was rolling and kicking while the Monster Book of Monsters gnawed her face.
"MGHFFF!!!" came a strangled noise.
"Easy—coming! I need… uh… a bookmark, that's it." The half-giant started rummaging through his things.
"You were saying, Harry?" Ron murmured at his side. "A great sorceress…"
"Ahh!" Neville suddenly yelled, starting to wrestle with his own book.
"Yup, now I feel safer in case Sirius Black shows up." Ron snarked.
"There we go—got it. Sorry for not warning you how to open it—I should've assumed you'd open it…" said Hagrid, deftly dislodging the book from the elf with the bookmark as if it were a string and a cat.
They exchanged a few hushed words before "the great mage" straightened up, adjusting her clothes and hair, acting as if nothing had happened.
Dean had also managed to save Neville from meeting a similar fate.
"Ahem—be careful, some of them are more short-tempered than others," Hagrid warned the rest of the class.
After checking that everyone had managed to open their books safely, he nodded, pleased "Good, follow me" he said, starting down the slope into the forest. "As I was saying, open to page 49. Today we'll study hippogriffs—noble, proud creatures, very loyal to those who earn their affection…"
"Can you believe this? First they hire this clumsy idiot as a teacher and now this disgusting variant of a house-elf. When my father hears that the educational standard has fallen so low, he won't stay silent… although seeing how the number of imbeciles working here multiplies every year, maybe I'll just change schools," Harry heard Draco telling his friends/henchmen behind him.
He couldn't keep quiet after hearing him insult his friend.
"Maybe you should do us all a favor and get out of the school, Malfoy—then at least there'd be one less imbecile." He turned to face him.
"Want to fight, Potter? This summer my parents taught me lots of new spells… You can't say the same, can you?"
The words felt like a punch rekindling a flame of anger that his aunt and uncle made sure to keep burning every summer.
He was about to pull his wand and make him swallow his own teeth when he felt a tap on his head; the staff then fell toward Draco too, who dodged it at the last second.
"You shouldn't interrupt class. You're bothering your classmates. If you have a quarrel, tell the teacher, or you'll be punished," the little elf said in a scolding tone.
A pit began to form in Harry's stomach. Great—now I'll look like a troublemaker for not being able to hold back in the face of Malfoy's big mouth
Harry's friends rushed to defend him.
"Miss Frieren, Harry didn't start it—Draco started by insulting Hagrid and you," Hermione said.
"That's right!" Ron backed her up.
He felt grateful to his friends but also frustrated with himself; just a few days earlier he had broken the law by losing control at his aunt and uncle's house, and now this.
Predictably, Malfoy's lying friends tried to cover for him.
"Liar! Potter's the one who started it—Draco was only defending himself!" Goyle shouted.
"Damn snakes," Ron stepped forward, his wand at the ready.
Any potential argument over who had started the conflict was set aside when an indignant Draco exploded in fury screaming at the elf.
"You dare try to lay hands on me? As if I were some common yokel? Do you have any idea who my father is?!"
The elf tilted her head as if she were really considering it, then shook it "No. Rejoin the group—you're falling behind, and at this rate you'll miss the explanation." Simple, in the same neutral tone an adult uses with a child who isn't particularly bright.
"My father is Lucius Malfoy! When he finds out—"
"Mmm, doesn't matter. Albus told me I could take points and give detentions to troublemakers…" Miss Frieren replied, indifferent at Draco's pathetic attempt at intimidation.
That finally shut him up; being the reason your house started out behind the others—and on top of that getting yourself a detention—was awful for one's image at school.
"T-this isn't over… " Draco spat, storming off with his cronies, still muttering highly offensive things within earshot.
"Miss, we swear Harry didn't—"
"I know," the elf cut Hermione off.
"He'd never… wait, what? You knew? Then why didn't you punish him?"
"Mmm… for several reasons. First, I'm not a teacher—and even if I were, this isn't my class. Second, you're Hagrid's friends, right? He's told me a lot about you. Hagrid is giving his first class right now, and although it doesn't look like it, he's very nervous inside… That boy seems like the type who would throw a tantrum and cause trouble over a punishment—no matter how deserved—and that would cause problems for Hagrid." Her words cooled Harry's anger like a cold shower.
Hagrid... The thought that they might be making life harder for their great friend immediately soured in his stomach.
The three fell silent—None of them had stopped to think things through that far.
"We're sorry," they said, repentant, and she patted their heads.
"Come on, let's not waste any more time." She started to leave them behind, heading for the group.
At least she's kind…
Pushing through the crowd, Harry saw Hagrid showing them page 49 of his book, dedicated to hippogriffs.
"Right, As I said before, today we're going to do something special. If you've opened to the page, you'll see the magical creature we'll study today.
"Hippogriffs, as your books clearly explain, the most important thing to know about hippogriffs is that they are proud creatures and are easily offended. You should never insult one, because it might be the last thing you do… So I'm going to ask you not to go near him under any circumstances without my permission" he warned, looking at them all seriously.
"Good, with that said," he added, returning to his jovial tone with a clap, "say hello to Buckbeak." He whistled.
Answering his call, the impressive creature straight out of the book emerged from the trees, beautiful and terrifying.
"Beeeek!!"
"Yeah, yeah, you're a good lad." Hagrid tossed him a dead animal, which the hippogriff caught in the air.
"Who wants to be the first to greet him?"
You'd have to be very brave or very stupid to—
"That's it, Harry! Very good."
Eh?!
Turning around, he was greeted by the sight of the rest of the class having silently taken a step back.
No way...
One look at the smiling half-giant wiped away any thought of backing out.
Mustering his courage, he accepted his fate.
Anything to help Hagrid…
Rubeus Hagrid
"Hahahahaha! That's it, Harry—hold on tight, but don't pull the feathers!" he advised the boy as Harry flew on the hippogriff's back.
He'd done well—he'd bowed clumsily but correctly, and the creature had responded in kind. Everything was going well. It had been a great idea—today the kids would take away an unforgettable experience.
"You can catch him if he falls, right?" he whispered to his new friend.
"Sure," the elf replied.
"They're getting pretty far…" he noted as Buckbeak flew over the castle and the lake.
"Almost sure," she said.
He turned to her, unsure whether she meant it, but the little smile on her face calmed his worst fears.
It had been a good idea to ask for her help. It had also been wise to follow Minerva's and Flitwick's advice.
"All right, that should be enough." He whistled, giving his boy the signal to return.
Ah, that's the expression I was looking for…
Welcomed by his classmates' applause, Harry wore a smile of pure happiness—that smile you get after a magical moment like riding a broom for the first time, or in this case, a hippogriff.
"Well done, Harry—and you too, Buckbeak," He praised his little friend and gave the feathered glutton a well-deserved treat.
Lifting Harry down from the hippogriff's back, he set him gently on the ground before kneeling by him.
"How'd I do on my first day?" he whispered, seeking an honest opinion.
"Perfect, Professor."
That brought a smile to his face.
"Good, because I was afraid it might be a bit too… you know… with the whole business of—" A chorus of shouts made him tense and spin around quickly, only to see Buckbeak drop onto that annoying brat Malfoy.
"BUCKBEAK, NO!!" Fortunately, Frieren—bless her—got between the attack and the brat, who collapsed to the ground, immobile.
In hindsight, he'd celebrated too soon. Frieren, surprised by the boy's collapse, turned to see what had happened—committing a great affront to the hippogriff.
You don't matter; you're no threat to me—that was how the hippogriff translated her actions.
"Frieren, don't turn your back on him!!…" Too late.
Buckbeak lowered his head and bit the elf's head with the vengeful rage of a humiliated apex predator.
The screams intensified, and for a few seconds Hagrid feared his first class would turn into a tragedy that would haunt him for the rest of his days.
Then came the struggling and flailing.
"Mmmgafhgfa!!" A plea for help rang out from inside the hippogriff's mouth.
She's alive?! The shock of it stunned him enough that, for a moment, he forgot he had to save her.
"Buckbeak, drop her, lad—she's not food! Here—here's your food!!"
It took all the treats and a little tug-of-war before Buckbeak finally let her go.
With a gagging sound, Frieren was at last freed landed on the ground.
"Are you all right?!" He rushed to her, looking for wounds, scratches—anything; but there was nothing.
"Ugggghhh, I hadn't missed this…" she muttered, wiping some sticky drool from her head.
The screams, which had quickly turned to laughter at the "comic" scene, began to die down.
Letting out a deep sigh of relief, he turned to the boy who'd caused all this trouble, his classmates had dragged aside.
"How is he? What's wrong with him?"
Hermione answered.
"I think he just… fainted from fear…"
A growing anger began to burn in Hagrid's stomach at all the problems the insolent brat had caused.
"You two," he called to the ones he remembered were his friends—Gyole or something like that and the other. "Take him to the infirmary. Tell him when he wakes up that a big detention is waiting for him. Fifty points from Slytherin. The next student who ignores my rules and endangers himself or others in my class can start packing."
Turning back to look at the drool-covered elf, he began to run through the checklist in his head: stroke the book's spine, don't turn your back on Buckbeak… anything else? He really wanted to keep his new friend from being eaten for a third time before the period was over.
New chapter! This marks the first of Frieren's chapters set in Hogwarts classes. I hope you like it, and as always, any help is welcome. Have a great weekend! 🫡
Neville Longbottom
He didn't take it well. He understood it was funny and that they weren't being cruel to Miss Frieren or anything, but to Neville it felt wrong—like a lack of respect.
They had asked him not to tell anyone what he had seen on the train, but being the only one who knew what she had done weighed on him in ways he hadn't anticipated.
It had already been more than three times he'd had to bite his tongue to avoid blurting something out whenever someone nearby made a joke about her.
His friends had noticed his mood, but since he couldn't really tell them anything, they eventually left him alone.
"HAHAHAHA—and when it swung her side to side like a chew toy?"
Now this.
Sure, the funny situation had made him smile too, but could no one see beyond that? How had Miss Frieren come out unscathed—other than being covered in drool? Or the shield she'd cast to protect Draco? Neville had been paying attention; not a word, not a gesture.
He'd never seen anything like it. How hard was it to pull something like that off? He didn't know, and that's why he felt like a one-eyed man among the blind.
Even Hermione—the most observant of his friends— seemed to have missed it all in the heat of the moment, more focused on the fainted Draco than on anything else.
"I heard from the fourth-years that this morning she was practicing first-year spells in the courtyard and they wouldn't come out. Do you think Dumbledore's getting senile and they duped him again?"
He couldn't take it anymore.
"Shut up, Dean, you have no idea, do you?!" He turned on his friend, who froze at the sudden outburst.
How would he know? They saw a clumsy person, someone careless like Neville, and it didn't occur to them she could be more— that she was a heroine, a real one, someone who in her world had ventured out with her party to defeat an incredibly powerful dark lord.
It was like the bedtime stories his gran used to tell him.
Or at least according to Luna's interview…
Not the best source, but even so, he believed it—he believed it because he'd seen it with his own eyes.
"Mate, calm down… I was only joking," his friend said, lifting his hands placatingly.
"Yeah, but you're talking without knowing! She isn't a fraud."
"All right, all right, relax, mate, don't get mad," he tried to soothe him.
Neville felt his anger cool, and he felt bad for yelling at his friend.
"I'm sorry…"
"Don't worry, I get it—she's pretty, that's what this is, right?" He winked, making him blush. He was about to deny that was the reason, but finally gave up.
The only good thing about that morning was that someone was finally getting what they deserved.
Lifting his head, he could see the moment when a sound bubble floated behind Draco and burst with a loud hippogriff roar that made him flinch and spin around, trying to figure out who it had been.
"pffff"
"Hahahahaha!"
"Did you see Sleeping Beauty? Some say he wet himself…"
Whispers and laughter filled the Great Hall. No one helped him; even his own house turned their backs on him for making them start the year behind the other houses.
The only ones who approached him were Goyle and Crabbe.
A small karmic punishment that didn't even begin to make up for all the times he'd picked on others.
"Hyah!" A group of ghosts on horseback burst into the room, pulling his attention away.
"Neville! Are you listening to me?"
"Eh? Uh—what were you saying?"
"Have you got your things ready for Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Oh—yes, I've already—"
"He's been seen! He's been seen!" The arrival of Seamus, sprinting in with a newspaper, cut his reply short.
"Who?" he heard Ron ask a little further away, though to Neville it was already clear who Seamus meant.
"Sirius Black." The cousin of the woman who had tortured his parents into madness.
Immediately everyone nearby gathered around his spot to see better.
And Neville felt his body tense and a knot form in his stomach when he saw where he'd been sighted.
Dufftown.
It was close—very close. He wouldn't even need a couple of hours to reach Hogsmeade, even without transportation.
"That's not very far from here…" Hermione said what everyone was thinking.
"Do you think he'll come to Hogwarts?" Neville found himself saying, trying not to look too much at Harry.
"There are dementors at every entrance…" someone tried to reassure them, but someone else was quick to point out the obvious.
"Like at Azkaban? He's already slipped past them once—who's to say he can't do it again?"
"He's right… Black could already be within the walls. Catching him would be like trying to trap smoke with your hands," Dean said dramatically.
The tension spread through them, and Neville noticed everyone glancing sideways at Harry.
"That's for the adults to worry about. We, on the other hand, need to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts in ten minutes," Neville tried to redirected the conversation as subtly as he could.
"Y-yeah, the adults will handle it," someone else chimed in.
"And if they don't?"
"They will, the dementors aren't the only obstacle he'll have to get past if he wants to get into Hogwarts." He shut down any pessimistic thoughts with more confidence than he felt.
Little by little, the crowd around him finally dispersed into their groups.
Seamus and Dean joined him, sharing their own opinions.
"Poor Harry… it's got to be rough being a murderer's target…"
"What about us, man ?—we sleep in the same room. We're not exactly safe either."
"Do you really think the adults will handle it Neville? It's not like they did much about the troll… or the basilisk…" Seamus asked him.
"I... I don't know, but Harry's the target of Sirius right now and there's nothing he can do… The last thing he needs is his friends scaring him," he answered, turning as he pushed the door to leave the hall.
"Harry needs us to—Ugh." He ran into someone who was just walking in, and his things fell to the floor
Bending quickly to pick up his stuff, he already had an apology on the tip of his tongue when a voice that had terrified him for years froze him in place.
"Watch where you're going," came Professor Snape's disdainful voice.
Looking up, he saw the figure of the Potions master standing over him, glaring with a terrifying look etched on his face.
And…
it wasn't that bad.
Not compared to the dementor.
"I'm sorry, Professor," He gave him a nod.
The man stared at him even more intently before simply diverting his attention and gliding past him, his cape billowing dramatically.
Neville watched him go.
He used to be scarier…
Gripping his things better so he wouldn't drop them again, he resumed walking—only to realize his friends weren't following.
"Guys?" He turned to look at them.
"Neville, you…"
"You spoke to Snape without stuttering?"
They stared at him open-mouthed.
Draco Lucius Malfoy
He was the laughingstock of the whole school.
Even the nerds and mudbloods laughed behind his back.
The letters to his father had come back with little more than a reprimand for shaming the family name and a note of worry from his mother.
"H-hey, it's not that bad… hippogriffs are terrifying creatures," Goyle tried to console him, only to fall silent under Draco's indignant glare.
"I'm a—"
"A disgrace to our House," interrupted a female voice he knew very well.
"Greengrass…" he spat, clenching his fists.
"Malfoy," she replied, equally disdainful.
Looking around, Draco could only grit his teeth at the sight of Slytherins, both older and younger, leaning toward her side.
It was a power game. Before, he would have had even more people on his side, but now she had far more support, and not even his father's name could change that—not when hers was almost as important.
"If you've come to laugh at me, I swear you'll regret it."
"I didn't come for that. There are already plenty of people laughing at you—and at our House—because of your actions."
Bitch…
"I came to warn you, Draco. You'd better climb down from your cloud, or your fall will be even more painful next time." She even dared to let out a little laugh at her own jab.
"I don't need—"
"Malfoy." Another familiar voice cut off the biting retort on the tip of his tongue with an authoritative tone that demanded obedience.
"Professor Snape."
The man observed the situation he was in before frowning in irritation and turning away.
"Follow me." He didn't wait for a reply.
Turning to his friends, they only nodded, cowed.
"We'll wait for you in class."
Hurrying to catch up to his Head of House, he asked, "Where are we going?"
"Your little prank is going to cost you more than House points, Malfoy. Now you're going to get your punishment."
"You're going to punish me?! It's that oaf's fault for bringing that monster!! He's the one who should be kicked out! When my father hears..."
"Silence." He stepped closer until he was mere centimeters away and leaned in further, eyes boring into him. "If you'd pulled such idiocy in my class, I would have made sure you were expelled from school. You're lucky who your father is—and that the professor in question didn't press the issue. Now, when we get there, you will keep your mouth shut and nod when they give you your punishment."
He didn't dare talk back.
He followed him to the Headmaster's office, where the old headmaster and the clumsy giant were already waiting.
"Severus, and young Draco," Dumbledore nodded to them. "I'm saddened that we meet under such circumstances… I trust you've already given him an appropriate reprimand, Severus?"
"Yes. He regrets it and will accept whatever punishment you decide to give," he said, shooting Draco a look that said don't you dare contradict me.
Indignation flared.
This was wrong. Things weren't supposed to go like this; he wasn't the one who should be punished—that was for inferiors like Potter, Granger, or that filthy Weasley. They were the ones who should end up punished, not him. Things weren't meant to be this way.
"Very well. Professor Hagrid was just telling me he already had an idea in mind…"
Frieren
"How did the patrol go this morning?" Lupin asked, interrupting her inspection of the wardrobe that held the Boggart.
"Mmm… the dementors are devastating all the vegetation around the castle… The temperature drops so sharply it kills almost everything; even the trees are suffering." She continued circling the wardrobe. "I did a quick fix… but non-plant life are out of my hands…"
"Yes, that's one of the side effects of their presence," he sighed.
"You've also been volunteering for quite a few extra watches…" she glanced at him.
"…It's something personal," he answered evasively.
"Mhm." She could tell when someone preferred to avoid a topic.
Thump, thump, thump—the wardrobe shook, struck from the inside.
Frieren wondered what it would show her if she opened the door right then.
"They're difficult creatures to face…" Lupin said beside her, watching the wardrobe too.
"Difficult, yes… but I think it's worth it in the end. Facing your fears is complicated, yet relatively simple at the same time… In my world there's a monster called Einsam. It extracts the memories of your loved ones to deceive you and kill you, much like this boggart reflects your greatest fear. Facing what frightens you is hard; facing what you love is cruel." She turned to look at him; his sour expression showed that he could at least imagine such a confrontation.
Little by little, the students began to arrive—Neville, Hagrid's friends, even the blond boy. Lupin gathered them in front of the shaking wardrobe.
"Intriguing, isn't it?" he began his presentation. "Anyone care to guess what's inside the wardrobe?"
"It's a boggart, sir," answered one of the boys next to Neville.
"Very good, Mr. Thomas. And can anyone tell me what a boggart looks like?" Lupin continued in teacher mode.
"No one knows. Boggarts change shape; they take the form of what a particular person fears most. That makes them…" This time, the girl from Hagrid's trio of friends spoke.
"Terrifying beings," Lupin finished for her. "Very well Srta. Granger, five points to Gryffindor, luckily, we have a simple charm to repel a boggart," he explained, catching Frieren's attention like a moth to a flame.
"Let's put it into practice. Wands down, please—repeat after me: Riddikulus."
"Riddikulus," the class repeated, Frieren included.
"Good—louder and more clearly: Riddikulus."
"Riddikulus." She had been practicing it a bit during her patrol.
"Perfect. But the incantation alone isn't enough. What actually defeats a boggart is laughter—you have to force it to take a form you find funny… Now then, please form a line. Remember that Miss Frieren and I are here for any reason, so you can relax if you fail. Neville, Harry—please, you two at the end of the line."
With that, nerves began to sprout among the students—especially since nobody wanted to go first. In the end it was Hagrid's red-haired friend who went first.
"All right, Ron, step forward. Ready?" Lupin glanced at Frieren to make sure she was prepared; according to him, the first demonstration needed to be a bit more cautious to set a good example.
"Yes," the boy managed.
With a flick of wand, the wardrobe opened and out came a spider the size of a horse, making the boy turn pale.
While Frieren held it with a silent telekinesis spell, Lupin approached the trembling boy.
"Remember, Ron—you have to turn it into something funny. Why don't you try this…" He leaned in to whisper in his ear.
At the idea, the redhead's face lit up, and he immediately cast the spell.
"Riddikulus!" The spider's legs turned into springs, launching it into the air with comical boings provoking the class's laughter.
"Very good!" Lupin congratulated him.
Without slowing down, the man went over to a trumpet-like device which, when he placed a needle onto a kind of blackplate, began to play a catchy tune
"Next!"
One by one, the kids stepped up: snakes, bugs, needles, jeering crowds—letters that scolded? The things were incredibly varied. Some feared creatures, others specific situations, others inanimate objects. Hagrid's friend Hermione faced a storm of failed exams which she creatively turned into confetti.
Around halfway through, the blond boy who'd fainted came up to ask permission to go to the bathroom.
"Of course, don't be long," Lupin dismissed him, focused on a girl afraid of tight spaces.
Frieren watched him leave, clutching his stomach.
Hmmm…
The students kept moving, and soon only a few were left, among them Neville and Hagrid's friend Harry—
—and the blond boy still hadn't returned.
"I'll go look for him…" she told Lupin before leaving.
"Don't be long… Neville looks nervous."
"Mhm," she nodded, and stepped out of the classroom.
Her calm pace brought her to the bathrooms. A look around revealed no onlookers; a quick scan with her magical senses confirmed the boy was alone inside.
Walking in unhurriedly, her rhythmic, light footsteps echoed through the bathroom. They weren't the only sounds; her ears, sharper than a human's, also picked up a ragged breathing the owner had tried to stifle in panic, with only moderate success.
She stopped in front of the stall where the boy was and said nothing. Soon his voice—forced to sound angry—rang out.
"Who's there?! Can't you see it's occupied?!"
"Mhm. I can wait," she answered patiently.
"I-it's you!! Are you insane?! You can't be here—this is the boys' loo… when my father—"
"You didn't need the bathroom. You're hiding."
"NO! I… I just have a stomachache!"
"Then you won't come back? All your friends and classmates are in there overcoming their fears… You'll stay here hiding in the meantime? Hmnn, I suppose that's fine too."
"I'M NOT HIDING, I'M A MALFOY AND—"
"You said that before… I don't know who the Malfoys are, nor who you are, but from what I've heard, no self-respecting Slytherin would stay here settling for what is. I suppose you're one of those who just are all talk. I've known humans like you before—they're never remembered for much…" With that said, she slowly left the bathroom, moved aside, and leaned against the wall to wait.
Not even a minute later, a furious but determined blond boy burst out and hurried to class so fast he didn't even see her standing there.
A smile spread across her face.
And they say I'm bad with children…
She returned to the classroom just in time to see a gigantic hippogriff turn into a freshly roasted turkey, and an expression of joy and triumph on the brat's face.
Only a couple of people were left.
It was Neville's turn.
Sweaty and anxious, the boy stepped forward slowly, fiddling with his sleeves.
Lupin and she exchanged glances and, just as they expected, the Boggart turned into a dementor.
The aura of fear, anti-happiness, and cold spread through the room—weaker than the one on the train, but still enough to kill the class's playful mood.
Frieren readied her staff but didn't move; this was the boy's moment to grow.
The monster began to advance, and in response the boy raised his wand. He trembled like a branch shaken by a storm and cast painfully slowly, but at last he did it.
"Riddikulus!"
And... nothing happened.
"Riddikulus!!" he tried again, more desperate, only to get a few magical sparks in return.
Before he could try a third time, the Dementor came close enough to begin extracting the boy's soul—this being the agreed non-intervention limit with Lupin, Frieren acted.
Sorganeil mentally cast the restraining spell.
The bindings manifested and the monster's attack stopped, but the boy remained paralyzed.
At this rate, he would need…
"Come on, Neville—once more!" Lupin's voice rang out like a military command.
The boy, dazed, looked at Lupin, then at her, and then at the Dementor.
"Riddikulus!!!" At last the spell worked, and the spectral creature found itself wearing women's undergarments instead of its cloak.
But no one laughed, a pity given the boy's efforts, but something Lupin and she had considered possible, since the opponent was a monster capable of suppressing happiness.
"Harry—your turn. The rest of you, step back!"
Hagrid's friend stepped forward, clearly tense, passing by a crumpling Neville.
I'll have to talk to him later… she thought, about what had happened with his wand.
As with Neville, according to Lupin, young Harry's fear had a strong chance of becoming problematic—something connected to the 'Dark Lord' whom Albus had told her about.
The boggart transformed again and the room's aura shifted: the cold and anti-happiness vanished, replaced by a deeper, stickier malice.
Where a dementor had stood, now floated another kind of specter, it still wore a tattered black cloak, but instead of a human skeleton, the specter resembled the wendigos she had encountered on her travels: pale skin, slender limbs, and nails more like claws. In addition, the creature displayed serpentine traits, such as an oversized mouth and a forked tongue.
Hmm, ugly.
"Haaaarry, it seemsss we meet again," the monster hissed, chillingly.
Frieren was quite tempted to kill it right then and there, but Lupin and Albus had shown a strange insistence on the importance of the boy defeating the thing. Instead, she watched as the lad raised his wand with firm resolve.
"Riddikulus," the boy answered bravely, making the creature puff up like a balloon.
Only again, there were no laughs. Even without the anti-happiness aura, this wasn't something the kids could laugh at—not with the mood so low after the dementor.
Frieren was about to step in again when, unexpectedly, laughter rang out among the students.
"HAHAHAHA—don't tell me that thing actually scares you, Potter. It looks like a fart trapped in a trash bag," the blond boy laughed, pointing at the monster.
Oh?
Like a burgeoning river, the laughter slowly spread, and the boggart shrank back as if in pain.
Applause!*
"Good, very good—nice work for today, kids. Class dismissed. Next time we'll talk about where and how creatures like Boggarts are born, as well as the laws surrounding them." With a flick of his wand, he trapped the Boggart in the wardrobe.
Frieren watched the crowd of children leave the classroom in high spirits; she didn't consider herself a great teacher, but even she could see that this had been an important lesson for them.
"It went well, don't you think?" Lupin came up to her.
"Mhm My turn." She looked at him with a mischievous smile.
"Are you… sure? It doesn't—" he began, doubtful.
"Mhm," she nodded. "Adults should face our fears too, shouldn't we?"—an infallible plan.
"That's…sigh...all right." the man finally gave in, hesitant.
I won. She didn't try to hide her victorious smile.
Stepped forward immediately felt the boggart's attention, felt its magic trying to enter her mind, seeking a crack in her defenses to draw out her greatest fear.
As with the Hat, she opened the doors.
When Lupin opened the wardrobe door, there was no aura of fear or cold—not even of malice. But Frieren tensed, and her body hair stood on end. Only the knowledge that what she faced was an imitation—and that its presence felt so blatantly false—kept her from blowing a hole in the castle.
"Hello, Frieren. I suppose it's been some time." said the horned kid who had just come out of the wardrobe.; he wasn't even looking at her—his attention was on Lupin the human.
"You're just a poor imitation." She began to circle him, savoring the imitation's aura compared to the original, feeling more bored than anything.
"Ah, as few words as always..." One of his eyes focused on her.
"Words are a waste on your kind." Of course its presence was null—the boggart could never imitate the crushing presence of the real one's mana, and the thing before her had no malice, Demons couldn't feel it, after all; killing and causing suffering were simply natural to them.
"I only want to understand humans, Frieren—is that so bad?"
"Those words have killed more people than anything, Demon King," she answered, more to herself than anyone. "I expected better," she told the boggart.
"Riddikulus." A grimace of embarrassment crossed her face when she failed to form the spell.
Hmm, I should've practiced more with this one than with the light one…
Her shameful thought was interrupted as she felt the boggart change again.
This time, its being spread through the room, and a very old memory began to take shape before her.
Flames licked the walls and spread over the houses and surrounding forest.
The coppery smell of blood and burning elven flesh flooded her nose.
In front of her lay her massacred village—and a single demon amid it.
"You can do better, I put this behind me a millennium ago."
"Riddikulus." Again the spell failed, and the boggart changed, delving deeper and adapting more to her mind.
"…"
This time there was nothing around her—an endless desert wasteland whose only feature that was jutting from the ground was herself, herself and hundreds of thousands of graves. The rows of headstones stretched beyond sight, each with a name and a small note.
Himmel — the false hero my first love
Flamme — You were a good teacher
Heiter — Stupid corrupt priest
Eisen — The most cowardly bravest warrior
Fern — My first apprentice; I should have brought you with me.
Stark — Surpassed his master
...
..
.
Those were the nearest. One stood out a bit more among them, in good condition, seemingly recent.
Serie — Now you're alone
"Oh… yes, this is more fitting." She ran her hand over the stones loaded with regret. "I suppose this can be cruel too…"
No one answered.
"Let's brighten this up a little." she murmured
"Riddikulus."
As if she'd cast her favorite spell, the desolate wasteland was drowned in a surge of flowers in a thousand colors that blanketed the ground. Then the graves popped open one by one, and her loved ones rose from them like lively spirits.
"Ah, about time for another adventure! I felt I was fossilizing," Himmel was the first to open his mouth.
They all laughed, her included.
"I've missed you." They were only projections of her spell—forgeries that would never compare to the real ones; even so, she allowed herself to enjoy the moment.
When she closed her eyes in her friends' embrace, Frieren felt something wet slide down her cheek. Opening them again, she found herself in the middle of a normal classroom.
"Are you all right?" Lupin approach her again looking nervous and his eyes were wet with tears.
"Mhm," she nodded. "Where's the boggart?" She looked around curiously; she hadn't seen him put it away.
"You… erased it," he said carefully.
"I wasn't trying to…"
"It's not a complaint, I... don't quite understand what happened. I suppose it was already at its limit for so much laughter... and your spell was too much… or so I think. What was that, by the way? You pronounced it correctly, but that wasn't the spell I taught the students…" he murmured the last part, almost to himself.
"Sorry..." she apologized, embarrassed. "I'm getting used to this magic system, but it's still a bit hard to follow it. It's easier to improvise some parts to get a similar result… I took inspiration from that spell you used on the train to complete it."
"Fascinating… " He seemed like he wanted to keep talking about it, but just then he appeared to notice the little onlooker who had been watching them.
"Neville?"
"P-pardon I didn't want to look… I just wanted to talk… and… and then I peeked in, and suddenly everything—"the boy tried to explain, wiping away his tears, embarrassed.
"Neville, my boy, what can I do for you? Did you forget something?"
"No, I… I wanted to speak with Miss Frieren, if possible…"
Lupin gave her a questioning look, and she could only shrug, not knowing what it was about.
"Oh all right, I'll leave you two alone, then. I'll be in the back if you need anything. Frieren, it's been a pleasure teaching the class with your help—let's talk later." He left the room
Hmm… now then, how am I going to do this? she thought, looking at the still-tearful boy.
"What is it?" she asked, half curious, half puzzled.
"I… failed." The boy clenched his fists and looked down at the floor as he began to tremble.
"I thought I could do it, but I failed… I was the only one who failed." Tears and snot began to cover his face.
"I tried, I really did, but I can't be as brave as you. Please, Miss Frieren, teach me to be as brave as you." He bowed deeply.
Frieren observed all that contained determination and fragility. She had seen people on the verge of collapse before.
An apprentice… No—not something that deep, not when she might have to leave at any time. Even so… Albus had been dropping some "ideas" about giving a few lessons next year.
"If you've come to have me teach you to be brave… go."
Her words had the devastating effect she expected. The boy's breathing hitched and the tears flowed faster. Before he could run out, she continued:
"I can't teach you that," she sighed, tired of having to disappoint him. "I'm not particularly brave, and even if I were, bravery is something that springs from within. You could be the strongest man in the world and still be a coward… One is not brave when one crushes one's enemies, or when one flings oneself into danger. One is brave when, despite feeling fear, one moves forward to face it." She extended her arm to tap him with a finger right above his heart. "And you've already shown yourself much braver than me." She smiled at the boy; his tears had stopped, and now his eyes were wide with disbelief.
"Then… why did I fail?" he asked, half-mumbling but still clear to her ears.
"You didn't. Your wand did. I don't know whose wand that is, but I know it isn't yours."
"I didn't steal it, I swear! It's mine— it was my father's and—"
"That's not what I mean." She shook her head. "That wand hasn't accepted you as its owner. Instead of helping you, it hinders you."
"But that's…" He looked at his wand, wounded.
"Saturday morning, under the clock tower—we'll go get you a proper wand." She patted him on the head. Having said all she wanted to say, her steps began to lead her toward the door.
She might try to teach him a few things—she'd done it with Fern; it couldn't be that hard—and while she was at it, she'd learn whether her own knowledge could be useful for the children…
"YES, Professor Frieren!" she heard the shout before the door closed.