Amaranthine

19. Unsteady

Professor Lupin, with a gleam in his eyes, broke the tense silence, "Fascinating, wouldn't you concur? Does any intrepid soul care to speculate on the nature of the inhabitant within?"

Seamus, his voice barely more than a muffled murmur swathed in trepidation, managed to respond, "That—it harbors a Boggart."

"A commendable deduction, Mr. Finnigan," shared Professor Lupin, his eyes scanning the sea of anxious faces before adding, "But can anyone illustrate the visual form of a Boggart?"

The room spiraled into a terse silence, broken abruptly by Hermione. Her voice, brimming with certainty despite a tinge of dread, resonated, "No one can genuinely discern."

The sudden participation from Hermione noticeably startled Ron. He cast a sideways glance at her before bending in to whisper to Harry, "When did she slip in?"

"Well, class. What are boggarts?" Lupin asked.

Hermione raised her hand and answered, "Boggarts are remarkable creatures known for their unique ability to shape-shift. They adopt the form that represents a certain individual's greatest fear. This characteristic is indeed what makes them deeply unsettling."

Interrupting her was Professor Lupin, his eyes twinkling with his profound understanding of the magical world. "Quite terrifying, indeed," he agreed. "However, there exists a relatively simple charm for repelling a Boggart. We should seize this moment to practice it. Let's refrain from using our wands for now." His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper as he declared, "Riddikulus! Repeat after me, everyone. One, two, three... Riddikulus!"

The students chimed in, their voices overlapping in a chorus of shared determination.

Meanwhile, Draco, sitting among the students with his usual air of arrogance, couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "This class is ridiculous."

On the other side of the room, the Slytherins watched as the other students succumbed to their deepest fears, unaware they were next.

Professor Lupin continued the lesson, a note of gravity subtly coloring his voice. "Excellent work, everyone. That covers the simple part. You see, the incantation alone is insufficient. The thing that really puts an end to a Boggart...," he paused for dramatic effect, "...is laughter. It's crucial to compel the Boggart to take on a form that you find fundamentally hilarious. Now, Neville, would you be so kind as to approach the front?"

Neville, looking rather uncertain, shuffled toward the ominously vibrating wardrobe. His face was taut with apprehension.

Gently, Lupin posed the question, "Neville, what would you say is the thing that frightens you most?"

"N-profter... Snafpt...," Neville stuttered, barely audible above the rattling of the wardrobe.

Looking at him benevolently, Lupin shifted his head slightly, "Sorry, Neville. I didn't quite catch that."

A gulping swallow could be seen crossing Neville's throat before he bolstered his voice, "Professor Snape."

The room filled with a lively cacophony of laughter, each member of the class grinning infectiously. Lupin, his eyes twinkling thoughtfully, nodded in response.

"Hmmm... yes. Neville, am I correct in understanding that you live with your grandmother?" Lupin asked.

"Yes, but I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either," Neville responded promptly, a hint of a shudder gracing his voice.

"It won't," Lupin gently assured him, "But I would like you to envision her attire, just her attire, with the utmost clarity in your mind. Are you capable of doing this?"

Closing his eyes and focusing intently, Neville began, "She carries a red handbag..."

"I don't need you to verbalize it, Neville," Lupin quickly interjected. "If you can see it, so will we. Now, when I open this wardrobe, here's what I would like you to do..."

As Lupin leaned closer to Neville, whispers filled the space between them. Neville's eyes sprang open in alarm before he cast an uncertain gaze at their professor.

"There is no need to fret," Lupin reassured him gently, "You can do this, Neville."

With a nervous nod, Neville inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the musty air of anticipation.

Just then, Lupin's voice was firm. "Wand at the ready. One, Two, Three!" His wand danced a quick movement, and a burst of bright SPARKS flew from its tip. They made a bee-line for the antique doorknob, and in an instant, the wardrobe door EXPLODED open from the force. Snape appeared instantaneously, his eyes gleaming threateningly, advancing in an intimidating manner. A frightened Neville began backing away.

"Think, Neville, think!" Lupin ordered him, voice strong yet encouraging.

With stuttering determination, Neville then cried out, "R-r-riddikulus!"

Snape stumbled, and when he resurfaced, he was transfigured, wearing an older woman's dress with a moth eaten hat atop his head, and clutching a red handbag in his gloved hands. The sight sent the whole class into a fit of laughter, except the Slytherins. Neville blinked, his face a caricature of astonishment, then a sly smile slowly crept onto his face, to which the entity crawled back into the wardrobe.

Suddenly, the wardrobe did not explode open as before. Instead, under the somber direction of Lupin, it creaked silently open and unleashed a horrific vision that made even Lupin gasp. The floor where Professor Snape had previously stood was now horrifically strewn with bodies. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Pansy, Lily and James - each one familiar and lifeless. Mixed in were her mother Arabella, her Aunt Delilah and Uncle Regulus, the ones who raised her. Among the bodies, she recognized fellow students, faces frozen in their final moments.

In the heart of this macabre scene stood none other than a harrowing version of Amara. Wearing a dark dress and heavy, obscuring makeup, she mirrored Amara, projecting a twisted, dark reflection of her. A taunting figure, she pointed accusingly at Amara, her voice carrying a shrill and maniacal tenor.

"You killed them, you killed them!"

The words had an immediate and devastating effect. Amara fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She clutched her head in her hands, shaking violently. "No, no, no..." she whimpered, her words lost in her sobs.

Instantly, Lupin was at her side. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, his voice calm yet firm. "Amara, listen to me," he said. "This is a boggart, not reality. You didn't cause this. You're not evil."