"A dragon?" Ron Weasley guessed, staring at the shaking wardrobe with wide eyes.
Orion, standing near the back of the Slytherin group, slowly raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. A dragon. In a wardrobe. The sheer, staggering lack of spatial awareness is breathtaking. How does he dress himself in the morning without accidentally strangling himself with a sock?
Suddenly, Hermione Granger materialized at Harry's elbow, slightly out of breath and looking as though she had just run a mile. "It must be a Red Cap, Professor. They frequently inhabit dark, enclosed spaces."
"A very educated guess, Miss Granger, but incorrect," Professor Lupin said kindly. "It is a Boggart. Can anyone tell me what a Boggart looks like?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air with the velocity of a fired arrow. "No one knows! Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor," Lupin smiled. "Now, the charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. The incantation is Riddikulus."
He had the class repeat the incantation.
"Very good. But the spell alone is not enough," Lupin cautioned, his expression turning serious. "The true weapon against a Boggart is laughter. You must force the creature to assume a shape that you find amusing. When you laugh at the thing you fear, you strip it of its power."
Lupin decided to start the practical demonstration with Neville Longbottom. Gryffindors quickly forming a line behind Neville while Slytherins remained at distance, wanting to watch first rather than give away their fears in such a public place.
"Now, Neville," Lupin asked gently, guiding the terrified boy to the front. "What would you say frightens you most in the world?"
Neville swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward the Slytherin group before he mumbled, "Professor Snape."
A ripple of laughter went through the Gryffindors, while the Slytherins looked deeply offended. Orion merely smirked. Classic. A perfectly rational fear for a boy who treats a cauldron like a live grenade.
Lupin coached Neville on how to visualize his fear in a ridiculous situation—specifically, picturing his formidable Grandmother's clothing.
Lupin stepped to the wardrobe and pulled the door open.
Professor Snape stepped out, his black robes billowing, his face twisted into a terrifying, murderous sneer. He locked his black eyes on Neville and reached inside his cloak for his wand.
Neville trembled, raised his wand, and shouted, "Riddikulus!"
There was a sharp crack like a whip. Snape stumbled. Suddenly, he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress, a moth-eaten hat topped with a stuffed vulture, and swinging a massive red handbag.
The class erupted into genuine, hysterical laughter. Even a few Slytherins cracked a smile.
Orion watched the scene with absolute focus, utilizing his Level 2 Mind Arts to capture the visual data perfectly. Oh, I am saving this memory securely in my mental vault, Orion thought gleefully. A high-definition image of Severus Snape in a vulture hat. That is premium, undeniable blackmail material.
The line moved quickly after that. Parvati Patil turned a bloodstained, bandaged mummy into a tripping mess. Seamus Finnigan turned a banshee into a croaking singer. Ron Weasley's turn produced a massive, hairy Acromantula, which he managed to strip of its legs, leaving it rolling helplessly on the floor.
Hermione's Boggart was perhaps the most psychologically revealing. Professor McGonagall stepped out of the wardrobe, holding a piece of parchment, and declared, "You have failed everything!" Hermione shrieked Riddikulus, turning the failing grade into an 'Outstanding' trophy.
"Next," Lupin called out.
Harry stepped up, his jaw set. He looked ready.
The Boggart spun, blurring into a shapeless form before solidifying.
The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. The torches flickered and died down. A tall, cloaked figure rose from the floor, its face hidden beneath a ragged hood. A rattling, sucking breath filled the silence.
A Dementor.
Harry froze completely. The wand slipped slightly in his hand. He looked paralyzed, the memory of the train clearly crashing over him.
Before Harry could attempt the spell, or before the Boggart could move closer, Lupin leaped in front of him.
"Here!" Lupin shouted.
The Boggart shifted its focus. The Dementor vanished, replaced instantly by a glowing, perfectly round, silvery-white orb hovering in the air.
A full moon.
Ah, Orion looked on quietly. A full moon. Wonder how no one catches this and puts two and two together regarding our dear Professors's secret identity.
"Riddikulus!" Lupin cast lazily.
The glowing moon popped like a punctured balloon, turning into a deflating puff of silver dust that was then blasted by Lupin into the wardrobe. Lupin slammed the door shut with a heavy thud.
"Excellent class, everyone," Lupin said, sounding slightly breathless and eager to end the session. "Homework is to read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it. Dismissed."
The class began to file out, chattering excitedly about the lesson. Draco was complaining loudly about not getting a turn, clearly confident his Boggart would be something unimpressive.
Orion walked slowly toward the door, lingering near the back of the pack. He looked at the rattling wardrobe.
I missed my turn, Orion thought, a small frown touching his lips. I wanted to know what shape it would take for me.
He mentally reviewed his fears. He wasn't afraid of monsters; he understood them. He wasn't afraid of Voldemort; he was actively planning on dismantling him. Was he afraid of Lucius? No, just annoyed by him.
"Perhaps," Orion mused, stepping out into the corridor, "I can return here later this evening. Ask the kind professor for a one-on-one session. It is a vital piece of psychological intelligence to know what one's subconscious truly dreads."
"I bet it's a giant, rubber duck," Sparkle chimed in helpfully.
"I doubt it," Orion replied, though the memory of the honking horror did make him wince slightly.