"I don't think we should go."

"We can't just skip it! That's a core class, Ronald!"

"She's right; I can handle it."

"After what happened in there? In that nasty bat's dungeon?!"

"Ron, calm down, I'm…I'm over it, see?"

"No you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"You are shaking like a leaf on the Whomping Willow!"

"I am not!"

"You are too!"

"Boys, BOYS! Will you both shut it, I can't even hear myself think!"

"Sorry luv."

"Yeah, sorry."

"Thank you."

The Golden Trio had side-stepped into a less-used passageway to their next class. It was a good thing, because for the first time in a long time, Harry was feeling the woes of being gawked at. And being a teenager again made those feelings intensify excruciatingly. After that fiasco in Snape's classroom Harry felt like taking a nap for the next century. The man was so volatile and cruel; Harry had almost forgotten by how much. And despite his best intentions, Harry now had ended up with a week's worth detention on the first day of class this term.

And the flash of fire and confusion in Snape's eyes the split second he was taken off guard by Harry's action was very, very concerning. The man was far too curious for his own good—Harry knew this much from experience.

Harry quickened his step and the other two matched his pace with ease. This passage was less used because it was the long way around, and Harry (despite his new depression at how fantastically he failed his first class with Severus Snape since he had come back) did not want to be late.

"Harry, I'm sure Remus will understand if you're a bit late…you need to calm your nerves yeah?" Hermione put an arm around his shoulders and tried to comfort him. In all honesty, the contact by his beloved friend did in fact lighten the weight currently in his chest.

"Thanks 'Mione, but I don't want to make a bad impression with him…Snape, well, I need to accept I've always been on his bad side since birth I suppose." Harry finally smiled at this, surprisingly. Ron clapped his back and mirrored the grin.

"Guys! Wait up!" a voice called and the three stopped to turn around at who was running after them. It was Neville, looking terribly disheveled and huffing as he ran to catch up.

"'Lo Neville!" Ron called and gave a firm wave at the boy as he approached. They continued their pace once he joined Harry's other side.

"I hoped I'd catch up to you lot, figured you mighta' took this way once I didn't see you with the others." Neville breathed, hoisting his potions book into his pack, Trevor on his shoulder looking ill from the rough ride of his human running about.

"You know about this way?" Hermione asked. It wasn't unusual, some students did explore beyond the paths clearly best used by students. But some of them were not so apparent; this particular path they had only known about because of the Marauder's Map.

"Oh yeah, I take it lots of times. 'Easier that way, when I want to be alone and stuff." Neville replied easily, still struggling with his pack. Harry couldn't help the concerned look he gave the boy at that statement.

"Sorry about Potions, by the way." Neville said shyly as they walked. Harry and Ron shared a confused glance.

"For what?" Harry asked.

"Well…y'know…for needing to stick up for me because I'm pants at Potions and Snape knows it. You both ended up getting under his skin and now you've got detention." The boy huffed dejectedly. He thought it was his fault.

"Neville, no…that was not your fault." Harry tried to impress upon his friend. Ron looked mad, but on Neville's behalf now.

"Neville, that greasy bat—" "RON!" "—has no right to treat you or any of us that way. I'm glad I got to tell him off, the git." Ron all but yelled, with Hermione trying to calm him.

Neville blushed but did not try to argue. His small smile meant he was glad they did not blame him for the bubbling tension.

"Well, are you two alright then?" he continued after Ron's outburst. "I saw how bad you f-flinched Harry," Neville was looking at his feet here, as if he really shouldn't have brought it up…but he pushed onward like a true Gryffindor. "…though I mean, Snape gives me the willies too so I understand."

Harry gave Neville a fond, warm grin. Neville chanced to look up and the sight made his heart swell with returned affection, but somewhere there, in Harry's eyes was a murky melancholy he could not place. And there were definitely remnants of dark circles beneath them, obscured mostly by his glasses unless someone were close enough to notice as Neville was now.

What was going on with Harry Potter…?

The thought was interrupted by Harry's voice. "I was just taken off guard, Neville. I guess…I guess I just got used to a Snape-free summer." He shrugged and his smile turned into a slight grimace. But Neville understood the sentiment, even if he still thought Harry was being a bit…vague.

Harry was doing a lot of that lately, wasn't he…?

But again this was pushed to the back of his mind when they arrived to the assigned classroom where their Defense Against the Dark Arts Class would take place. Several students were trickling in or already seated, and everyone seemed a bit surprised (aside from the Trio) that their teacher was not there yet. So they set out their books, bits of parchment and quills as they all began to chat amicably. This was one of the few classes Gryffindor had on its own for Third Year, and they all seemed pleased to be able to de-stress after that horrid Potions class.

Harry chose a seat in the very back this time, not quite sure if he could handle this next class. While he knew this teacher certainly did not hate him (or want to kill him as those in the same position had the past few years before and after this one) Harry still felt a bit wired because of Snape. Plus, he knew that Lupin would be making today's lesson…a practical one.

With Boggarts.

And having discussed this with Ron and Hermione back at the Burrow, he decided they could get through this if only they focused on lesser fears for the Boggart to latch onto…perhaps if they remained in the back they would not even get a chance to take a turn with it before it became dispelled completely like last time.

At least, Harry was hoping very, very hard this would be the case.

Ron slid in beside him, with Hermione sliding in moments after. Neville had taken Harry's other side, sitting in with another huff, running a hand through his hair and visibly relaxing a bit by merely being in a physically different room than Potions.

Dean passed by but stopped to give Harry a comforting grin, a bit lopsided as if he felt sorry for him but would not have switched places with him for all the Galleons in Gringotts.

"Doin' alright there, Harry?" he asked. Harry sighed but managed a smile; a wane one but it seemed to satisfy his friend. "Yeah, I feel ya mate. I don't envy you…but we all agree Snape's a right snotty git."

That…didn't make Harry feel any better, but he supposed Dean's heart was in the right place. He didn't know…

Parvati, who was sitting beside Seamus and Lavender, looked sympathetic as well. "He had no right to do what he did. Looked like he gave you a right heart attack. Almost gave me one with that great smack on the table."

Lavender nodded in agreement. "The man is daft. I almost dropped the whole bottle of leech juice it scared me so bad. He keeps that room so dead silent otherwise." She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of Professor Snape.

"And did you see the look he gave me when I was at their table for more than a few seconds?" Seamus piped up, wanting to chime in with the girls. "But he just lets Malfoy and his goons chat the class away without so much as a cough in their direction." The others thought this another grievance that Snape accosted them with unjustly.

Harry murmured agreements he didn't really feel but was touched by the support from his friends. Hermione (and Ron thankfully) had nothing to add to the string of insults at the unfairness of it all. Hermione was happy just doodling on her parchment—a new design for an elf hat it seemed—and Ron seemed to notice Harry was continuing to feel uncomfortable and so laid off in respect for his best friend. Soon, everyone was seated and chatting on various topics (thankfully Potions was quickly set aside for more interesting and happy trains of thought) when in walked Professor Remus J. Lupin.

Harry straightened considerably in his seat, watching the man with an almost hungry look in his eyes. He couldn't help it, he adored the man. But it was likely for the best that he be so far away, as Harry was itching to touch him again, if only to feel he was really and truly there and that this wasn't some beautiful, tragic dream.

Lupin, bless his heart, had on worn robes and carried a tatty old briefcase that he settled on his desk at the front of the room. But his smile, while also vague, was warm and generous. And while shabby, he looked far better than he had on the train. Some good square meals seemed to have done him good, much as they did for Harry whenever he first came back (even if he did feel queasy at first trying to get used to it again from the summer).

"Good afternoon," Lupin said happily, but firmly to wordlessly request chatter to cease so he could gain the attention of his class. "If you would, place your things back into your bags—today's lesson will be a practical one. You will need only your wands."

Harry watched the curious looks of his year-mates and almost chuckled at what he found there. Some looked excited, some wary and some out right confused. It was well warranted, as up to now they had not had a practical DADA lesson, aside from that disaster last year with the pixies.

"Right then, if you're all ready, just follow me." Lupin said as everyone had done as he asked of them. The Trio stayed in place to allow the others to take the lead in following him out, but not before Harry caught Lupin's eye who seemed to beam at seeing him, before leaving out the room. Harry quickly brought up the rear with his two-thirds trio (plus Neville), hope and joy bubbling up in his chest where dark despair had resided since leaving Snape's class.

It was amazing what drastic effects a good teacher had compared to a terrible one. Harry could admit Snape was brilliant, but he was a very bad teacher, hands down. Lupin instilled obedience and confidence in his class mere minutes into his first day, all with his kindness.

Rounding a corner, Harry saw that Lupin was already engaged in conversation with Peeves, who was currently still upside down and stuffing chewing gum into a keyhole, chanting "Loony Lupin" over and over. Harry winced, wondering how Filch managed to clean after that menace without magic.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves." Lupin was saying rather pleasantly as Harry and his friends arrived to stand with the group. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms." Harry almost nodded with that statement. Poor Filch. He was mean and nasty, but honestly the man had enough on his hands without that poltergeist making it ten times harder. If nothing else, Harry did not want to bear the brunt of Filch's frustrations in the future as was usual when he was grouchy. Which was all the time.

Peeves blew his nasty wet raspberry at Lupin and Ron rolled his eyes at that. Seemed he was tired of this already too. Lupin then showed them a new handy little spell, which he demonstrated and the gum shot out of the keyhole and into Peeve's nose. The ghost wailed and wailed, zooming off cursing. Lupin merely looked serene aside from a notable mischievious spark in his eyes. Harry grinned widely at that more than anything else.

"Cool, sir!" Dean exclaimed in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean." Lupin said while putting his wand away in his robes. He then offered for the group to continue on their way and they happily obliged.

A new note on Harry's list of thoughts was how Remus knew Dean's name. It then occurred to him that he had known all their names as the class went on, without having to ask for them. His heart warmed at knowing the man probably prepared so thoroughly for the job that he also strived to memorize and learn all the names of his students. That realization blew Harry away.

He would make sure he could keep the job this time around. No exceptions.

Walking along the second corridor they soon found themselves outside the staffroom door. Lupin ushered them in the long room filled with mismatched chairs. Harry then spotted Snape with a thrill of discomfort. Grimacing, he grabbed Neville and ushered him a bit behind him to protect the boy from the man's glare. Neville looked surprised at the action before looking up to see the man's glittering and darkened gaze at them as the Gryffindors piled in. Neville looked like a small bunny staring into the teeth of a viscous wolf. An odd thought, Harry admitted, when the real wolf in the room was one of the kindest men he had ever known.

Snape was sitting in a highbacked chair, reading the Quibbler of all things. He quickly shuffled it out of sight, but not before Harry caught it. He sneered as the Gryffindors refused to step anywhere near his side of the room. Lupin made to close the door when he called out, deftly jumping up from his seat, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

Harry almost scoffed at that, not feeling particularly fond of the man right now, his hand still holding onto Neville's wrist and standing in front of him like a shield for the man's hateful gaze.

Snape meanwhile was striding past the class, the grace and billow of his robes lost on them as they simply watched with disgruntled looks for the man who had berated their own just last class. Lupin seemed surprised to see them all crowded about him instead of dispersing into the room, but with one glance at Snape's retreating form a look of understanding crossed his face. But it mingled with a touch of sadness, which he hid when the man in question turned back to address him before leaving.

"Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom." Harry closed his eyes in another grimace before opening them to look back at Snape. He could feel Neville warm in his hand and knew the boy was turning scarlet as the man continued.

"I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless dear Mr. Potter is there to swoop in and save the day." Harry merely regarded Snape with a blank face, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how angry he was with him over this.

Lupin had raised his brows. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation." He smiled such a smile that he looked like a ray of sunshine that Snape wanted to trod underfoot. "And I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Snape's lip curled before shutting the door with a snap.

Harry turned to Neville as the others in his class broke out in upset murmurs, making Lupin have to settle them down.

Neville looked, if possible, redder than when Snape first insulted him, due to Lupin's following confidence in him. "Alright there, Nev?" Ron asked as Harry let go of the boy now that Snape was gone.

"Y-yeah…th-thanks guys…" Neville gave a weak grin, and Hermione rubbed his arm for good measure, which he appreciated. They then turned to the class that Lupin was now having a bit of trouble settling.

"Come on now, calm yourselves…" Lupin tried, honestly confused as to where this antagonism was coming from in his previously well-behaving Third Years. Surely this small confrontation with Snape couldn't be it…right?

Wrong.

"It's Snape, sir." Seamus almost yelled in frustration. Lupin didn't have a chance to correct him on using the man's title as the boy continued. "He's made Neville's life hell, and gave Harry a right scare in class before we came here."

Harry looked mortified. This didn't happen before.

Lupin's eyes flicked to Harry at the mention of that, a certain protectiveness shadowing his features now before his attention was directed to one of the girls who now spoke.

"And he knows it!" Lavender rallied next to Seamus. "He bullies Neville and Harry most and acts like Hermione's brilliance is some sort of undeserved trick, but he hates all of us."

Harry covered his face in his hands, completely ready to sink into the floor. He didn't want this to be the first thing Lupin heard about him from the school. This was ruining the lesson as well. Plus, this was not helping anything. There was a reason Snape was angry all the time. Harry knew. It didn't condone his actions, but it wasn't like he woke up one day and stated "Hmm…I think I'll hate all Gryffindors now."

Hatred, Harry knew from experience, was a learned trait.

And this was exactly what he wanted to stop.

"I agree that Professor Snape is a bit…rough around the edges…but—" Lupin tried but Harry interrupted.

"He's got a bit of a bias against our house, professor." Harry spoke, his voice rather soft. "But we're Gryffindors and…and we won't let it get us down. Will we mates?" Harry encouraged positively, gaining several "here here's!" in response from his year-mates. Lupin looked rather relieved from being saved from having to defend Snape. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he didn't exactly have a lot to work with.

"Well said, Harry." Lupin graced him with a look of pride and Harry instantly lightened at that.

"Now then!" Lupin then turned to face the opposite side of the room and beckoned the children to follow. He even briefly placed his hands on Harry's shoulders to help herd him closer to the spot he indicated and Harry almost melted into the man's mere touch. He felt so very safe with him alive and well, it took all his power not to stand directly at the man's side as he made his way to the front of the others and gesture to the old wardrobe they now faced. The wardrobe made a great rumble and shook a moment, making several of the students jump backward in alarm.

"Nothing to worry about," Lupin said at their surprise, though he noted Harry, Ron and Hermione looked wary but otherwise expectant. Hmm…

"There's a boggart in there." Lupin continued, jabbing a thumb at the wardrobe. Well, that did nothing to calm the class as Neville snapped up to look at Lupin in pure terror, Seamus eyeing the now rattling door knob. As Lupin began his spiel about what sorts of places boggarts like to reside as well as how he had procured this one, Harry leaned into Ron.

"Well, ready?" Harry asked. Ron gulped.

"I dunno if I'm ready for this…it'd be alright if it was just us." Ron replied.

Harry agreed with that readily enough. It wasn't exactly a boggart they were afraid of; it was having their past several years of fears exposed and then having to explain it. Harry decided though that his first priority was protecting his two closest friends from the blasted thing. Lupin was now looking at them though he asked his question in general to the class.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

No one answered, though several eyes turned to look at Hermione who was hugging herself, stepping a bit into Ron's side as if for added support (which he gladly gave her). Once again she was passing up an opportunity to answer a question. Lupin had noted in going over student files that Hermione was a bit of a know-it-all, an attribute regarded rather affectionately from the rest of the staff (aside from, predictably, Snape) and he had expected her to answer right away. But she was hesitant. Perhaps she was shy with a new professor?

"How about you, Miss Granger? Do you have an answer for me maybe?" Lupin asked, his tone far more gentle as he regarded her.

"Uhm…" Hermione began, standing a bit straighter and even dropping one of her arms to the side. "It's a shapeshifter, sir. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

Ron clapped her back and Harry beamed at her. They knew it took a lot for her to answer as she did.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Lupin, and Hermione almost glowed. He went on to explain the mechanics of the boggart's magic and strategy, before turning back to the class, another question on his lips.

"This means," and he gracefully ignored Neville's sputter of terror at the realization that the thing in the closet would, in fact, resume the form of whatever the recipient feared most, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?" Harry jumped at being addressed, having forgot he too had been asked a question in this class the first time. But he gave it a go.

"Because…there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be."

"Precisely." Lupin nodded, Harry again feeling relieved by his teacher's—and future friend's—approval.

Lupin then told of the ways this could be advantageous, describing the boggart he saw once try turn into two things at once and becoming awfully nonthreatening because of it. He also showed the class how to perform the charm used to counter the boggart—Riddikulus.

Harry joined the others in practicing saying the spell verbally sans their wands. "Good!" Lupin praised them, and the others looked visibly more confident at this. It faltered only just when Lupin went on to explain that more was needed than just wandwork and a handy spell. He then sought out Neville, who paled at being chosen for the following unknown task he was to help with.

"You've got this Neville. You rode a Hippogriff and showed up Snape in his own class!" Harry whispered happily into his ear as he, for the second time that day, pushed his friend forward in aid of a professor. Neville took on a determined sort of look in his face at Harry's pep talk (and Hermione's thumbs up) and he stepped forward to Lupin's side with more confidence than the first time around.

As the professor went over what Neville feared most, as well as what sorts of things his grandmother usually wore, Harry gently pulled Hermione and Ron backward a bit from the rest of the group. No one noticed.

Lupin then straightened and then asked everyone (once the giggles died down of picturing Snape in a dress) to do the same exercise with the things they feared.

Harry didn't close his eyes as most had done, but he still thought about it true. He seriously thought if Dementors scared him as they had when he was really thirteen. He immediately thought against it. No, he did not fear them in particular. Sure, their effect on him was far worse than the normal person, and if Sirius was around he certainly would be afraid for his godfather's life…but Harry could cast a fully corporeal patronus without hesitation. And it was this ability that enabled him to conquer that fear long, long ago.

So what else in his travels did he discover a new fear for? Death? Never…he did not fear it but he also wished to prevent its prematurity upon his loved ones. And having died once already, Harry knew it was a peaceful experience, just like Sirius had said that night in the woods before his final duel with Voldemort.

Voldemort…Harry scrunched up his face in thought. Did he fear Voldemort now? Again, not really…but Harry supposed he did fear what he was. A wizard bent on hatred to tear apart all he loved, the very world that served as his rescue from that lonely cupboard under the stairs all those years ago. It made Harry rather angry to think about though, instead of fearful.

Harry's thoughts were halted at the laughter filling the room, and he looked up to see the Snape-boggart flailing about in his heels and dress, wearing a hideous hat, scarf and handbag. Harry smirked at the sight. Ron was clapping, as if this were poetic justice. And Hermione had folded arms, looking disapproving but still cracking a smile.

Lupin called on the next student, a delighted look dancing on his face at Neville's success.

"Parvati, forward!"

Crack!

Harry watched as Snape turned into a mummy almost instantaneously.

Seamus was next, after Parvati managed to get the thing to trip on its own bandaged and its head roll off. Harry jumped back just a bit more than necessary, his mind going back to that hideous cave with inferi…no. He would not think about that just now.

Constant Vigilance! Harry let Moody's advice echo instead.

Crack!

Prepared for the wiling shriek of Seamus's banshee, Harry flinched only a bit and gave the other transformations an even wider berth. The others had spread out as well.

"Excellent!" Lupin cried at Dean's flick of the charm. "Ron! You next!"

Ron shot Harry a look, but Harry nodded him on, wand at the ready to help if needed.

Ron darted cautiously at the boggart which immediately transformed…only it took several more seconds than the others had. Ron's disposition of determination faltered a bit and Harry gripped his wand like a vice; Hermione faring no better.

Crack!

At last the boggart settled on a huge spider, much like the one from before. Harry was about to heave a sigh of relief when it then changed again. Ron took a step back, his heart pounding as his concentration had been lost.

Crack!

The boggart swirled in a dark, obsidian, almost sandy substance that swirled like a tornado. But it quickly took the form a woman. Unlike Seamus's, she was no banshee.

She was much, much worse.

"No…" Ron breathed incredulously, hands shaking.

The woman stood there, eyeing everyone with a mocking humor in her otherwise dead eyes. One could have called her beautiful once, but life had not been kind to her—nor her dark activities. Her curly hair was now wild, her once perfect teeth crooked; and her skin as pale as the moon.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Remus Lupin was completely taken by surprise in that single moment, frozen in momentary shock by the image, a face he had not seen in more than a decade, and right as he was about to dash forward, Harry beat him to it.

"No! Here!" Harry yelled, waving his arms madly to distract it. Bella jerked her head to him and the boggart changed again—but to what Harry was not sure. It began to take form once again when Lupin jumped in front of him.

"Here!" he yelled almost ferally, his heart beating fast at what he thought he saw moments before.

Crack!

Everyone looked wildly about, aside from the Trio who had deftly spotted the silvery orb hanging in midair almost lazily. Lupin had to tear his eyes from Ron and Harry to look up at the thing before glaring at it wearily, tiredly before flicking his wand almost absently.

"Riddikulus." He managed to cast and the orb turned into a balloon that fizzed about the room making the most rude of sounds and easing the tension of the room as nearly everyone giggled at the noise. The balloon landed with a whap! onto the stone floor and Lupin looked to the student he intended would finish off the thing.

"Forward, Neville! Finish him off!"

Neville stepped forward gingerly but with much more courage than before, his brows furrowed in concentration this time. Again with a sickly crack! Snape was back, but before he could so much as sneer he was struck by Neville's charm and back in those ghastly clothes. Letting out one last hearty "HA!" Neville laughed the boggart into oblivion; it exploded into a thousand wisps of smoke before disappearing completely. Everyone clapped and cheered and Neville turned pink with pride.

"Let's see here…"Lupin clearly had regained most of his composure but Harry saw a wariness in his eyes now and it made his heart plummet just a bit.

"Five points to Gryffindor to everyone that faced the boggart…ten to Neville since he did it twice…and five each to Harry and Hermione."

Harry wisely did not dispute this, knowing Remus gave the points for the answered questions earlier.

Lupin once again praised the class, earning beaming looks from the Gryffindors, and he doled out a relevant—if easy—homework assignment and set them on their way.

Harry made his way to leave, almost as quickly as he had left Snape's classroom since somehow he had managed to muck this one up as well, when Lupin called his and Ron's name to stay behind a moment.

Hermione widened her eyes and Ron shot her an almost frightened look. What were they supposed to say?

Harry noticed Neville linger in the doorway for them, a puzzled look of concern on his face. Everyone else was raving happily about the class as they moved out and down the corridor, thankfully. No one seemed to notice them other than Neville. Harry nudged Hermione and said, "It'll be alright, we've got this. Go along with Neville. We'll catch up." Hermione squeezed Ron's arm, gave Harry a parting look of confidence, then padded to Neville, taking his arm and leading him out.

Turning back, Harry and Ron noted Lupin leaning on one of the tables and regarding them both thoughtfully. He motioned for them to come closer.

"Ron, I noticed the form your boggart take—" Lupin began, his voice barely above a whisper as if the possibility he was about to confront pained him.

"I'm sorry I didn't react in time, sir!" Ron blurted out. Lupin blinked, but almost smiled at the interruption.

Yep. Definitely a good teacher. Harry thought.

"Which was my fault sir." Harry took upon himself. Ron jerked his gaze to his friend, a bit disgruntled at him taking some of the blame.

Not everything is your fault, Harry! Ron wanted to scream, but didn't for obvious reasons.

"I just saw Ron in trouble and just…reacted." Harry shrugged.

Lupin tapped his mouth with a couple of fingers, an arm folded across as his other resting on his chest in thought.

"This is not…a rebuke, boys. I understand that sometimes what boggarts take the form of can be fearfully paralyzing at times…but I am rather perturbed by what form your boggart took on, Mr. Weasley."

Ron blinked. It was rare Remus had ever called him that.

Sharing a look, Ron lunged on working from what he heard Seamus all but shouting about as he left with the others.

"My banshee, sir?"

Lupin looked a bit taken aback, as if this were not the answer he was expecting.

"Your…banshee (?), yes Ron. She looked…odd…?" Lupin now looked as if he felt particularly stupid for bringing this up at all and Harry felt bad for him. But there was no viable way they could explain Bellatrix Lestrange. At least, not now. Better for all involved that Remus think it was just a familiar face haunting him from the past in a similar person's visage, not the real deal.

"Yeah, she did look a bit wiggy." Harry chuckled, though it was still in an uneasy tone. "I uh…we, um, watched some movies with them over the summer. And you know, Ron isn't used to muggle horror." Harry lightly elbowed Ron who took that up.

"Er, yeah! Those muggle mooveez, right scary they are." Ron tried to look sheepish, though in reality he had no idea what Harry was on about.

"Ah, I see." A light tinge graced Lupin's cheeks and Harry immediately felt like scum for deceiving the well-meaning teacher. "I just thought…well, never mind what I thought. You two are free to go." He chuckled at himself, getting off the table to begin straightening back the room with his wand.

"Er…" Harry began as Ron made to walk off. Lupin looked back to Harry. Such genuine interest laid in those amber eyes that Harry's voice nearly caught in his throat. He never thought he'd see that look in Remus's eyes again…he pinched himself in his robes to get his voice working again.

"Thanks. I mean, for taking my turn at the boggart."

Lupin's brows raised in surprise.

"I don't think…I don't think mine would have been pleasant." Harry replied vaguely. Lupin's gaze softened in a somewhat understanding look.

"I figured as much, Harry. I'm glad you understood my intentions."

Harry smiled. "Yes sir. See you." With a small wave, Harry and Ron were out the door.

As they walked, Ron was rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

"Um, Harry? What's a moovees?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

The nerve. The gall. The absolute cheek of that insolent, Gryffintwit of a boy!

Snape was forcefully jabbing his wand at some shrubbery at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He decided to get in some gatherings he was running low on in his stores before dinner. But really, he was angry and wanted to be alone for a while. Away from Flitwick's jokes, Hagrid's clumsiness, Rolanda's constant yabbering over her personal picks for this year's Quidditch team stars, Pomona's bubbliness and most of all Albus's twinkling paired with Minerva's meddling and that wolf Lupin. Not to mention the other teachers Severus didn't even try to tolerate. He also felt like he was surrounded by Gryffindors on all sides and did not like it one bit. So here he was, in the wilderness, away from awkward social interaction with his colleagues, Lupin's pathetic attempts at friendship (as if!) and those mewling brats he had to teach on a daily basis. One brat in particular plagued his mind however, and it was driving him, well, batty.

He was replaying that overdramatic session of his third year combined class from earlier, when the Longbottom boy managed to beat the odds and produce a barely above decent potion. And where the Weasley boy nearly lunged at his throat, the ungrateful and hot-headed whelp!

And don't get him started on Potter.

The mere thought of him made Snape slash a bit too forcefully at the plant he was gathering cuttings from, making it slice directly in half at the burst of magic from his rising emotion. Crap. Pomona would string him up by his thumbs if she saw. Quickly he mended the dingy thing before moving on.

The way Potter flinched so horribly as Severus slammed down on the table to curb the whisperings they were engaged in…well, it threw Severus for a loop. And with his senses honed from his eh, previous job experience, he could feel the restrained magic in the air emanating from the boy, and upon seeing his wand out, Severus had no idea what the boy was playing at. The heavy breathing, crackling air and even the clouded gaze as if he was seeing something else than reality—they were all signs of PTSD. Snape had experienced it enough those first few years after the war to know the signs. But in Potter? It was inconceivable!

Severus hatefully kicked a mushroom off its stalk in his anger, and scowled at the glittering dust that rose up from the action. Even in death the dreaded thing dared look beautiful. He then picked it up and placed it in his burlap bag that he used for this sort of excursion.

And what was up with Potter's attitude—or lack thereof? He was simultaneously glad and dreaded to see his usual spunk in the moment the boy defended Longbottom from a tongue-lashing. Glad to see it since Potter's arrogance usually led him to assign detentions and thereby allowing him to ruin the boy's life just that much more. But he also dreaded it as it made him so like his prat of a father, Potter Sr.

And now the Golden Boy Who Lived was reunited with his pet wolf, for whatever good that would do to this quickly crumbling situation, at least in Severus's eyes.

But, as he made himself calm enough to coax a few flowers open again (as they had closed abruptly upon his tromping about the forest edge in his vitriol) he also remembered the rather subdued way the boy had taken on once class had begun. In fact, (though he would admit this to no one) his surreptitious glances at the boy had almost been concerned ones. Almost. But he had to grudgingly admit that Potter had been working in unusual focus, with a murkiness that coated his otherwise brilliant emerald eyes. The only beautiful part of Lily he seemed to inherit. And as it had been with her, Snape could easily discern emotion in those same eyes (if he dared look at them for more than a few seconds which, as it happened, was rarely something he could bare). But he was forced to by the whelp, though he made it difficult what with staring down almost the entire time like a reprimanded House Elf, as if Potions was no longer a class he hated with passion but endured with resignation. Apathy on any Potter's face was more unnerving than anger for Severus Snape. And while he appeared to not have noticed any difference, he did. The little wretch only acted normal when it was Longbottom that had caught his negative attention. And even then it had quickly dissipated, far too quickly for normal rule-breaking, angsty Potters.

Snape paused his thoughts to tickle the current bulb that was giving him the hardest time. It smacked his hand away with a leaf and he heard the other flowers he had collected from giggle. Gathering all his strength of will, he strained to keep himself from digging his heel into the impertinent weed and held its leaves down instead with one hand and ticked it again with the other. It finally gave in and unfurled its petals so he could place his vial and collect some of the nectar pouring out. Silly things. He absolutely hated collecting from these particular specimens; they were haughty and uncouth and disturbingly cheerful of a plant.

Sprout thought they were jolly good fun of course, the gratingly bubbly witch.

He stood back up from his previous crouched position and heard several of his bones pop in the process. He grimaced. He was in his thirties, not an old coot like Dumbledore. It was far too premature for a wizard to be suffering from rickety joints in this stage of life.

Of course, he had experienced more than his fair share of torture curses and it was quite possible it was catching up to him. Merlin knew the nightmares had only just stopped a few years now. It was bound, by Severus's terrible luck, that he be now plagued by physical deterioration.

Of course, deterioration was a much stronger word than needed for simple cracks of the knee from getting up too fast, he supposed.

Glancing at his pocket watch Severus scowled. He had wasted enough time skulking in the forest—it was nearly time for dinner. Looking at the beautiful castle and flickering candlelight, he wildly thought of maybe getting himself attacked by centaurs just so he could have a valid excuse not to attend the meal. He was hungry, sure, but he didn't feel like seeing Lupin's face. And admittedly he was still mad at Albus for letting the man work there.

But no, him getting attacked would be unlikely as the human-like creatures lived far deeper into the wood; Snape would probably be eaten by the rumored acromantula population before he caught a glimpse of any centaur. And besides, those blasted spoilt brats would likely see his demise as cause for celebration. Probably led by that hideous wolf.

And Severus just would not give them the satisfaction.

He was halted in his imaginings when he heard what sounded like an engine at a dull roar deeper beyond the clearing he was standing in now. Swiveling about to the noise Severus let his blank mask fade to be replaced with a look of sheer surprise and confusion.

Now that was a sound he had not heard in more than a decade. After reaching his majority he had happily said goodbye to all things Muggle (and by extension anything that reminded him of his father) and moved permanently into a flat in a wizarding village not far from Diagon Alley. His visitations to the Muggle world grew fewer and far between and after Albus took him in as a spy, it ceased altogether. But he still knew his way around an automobile thanks to his father (one of the few things the man found joy in, incidentally) and Severus knew that sound perfectly.

But why in the name of Merlin's tea cozy was it coming from inside an enchanted—and arguably dark—forest?

The engine revved up and it moved closer, causing the ex-death eater to jump back a step. He peered through a curtain of his hair and spotted the faint orbs of headlights. They made a sharp turn and he heard the roar of the engine (and a rather clogged muffler from the sound of it) grow fainter as it moved away.

Blinking and staggering away in confusion, Snape quickly made his way up to the castle, wondering if he should even bring up the odd sighting to the headmaster. Knowing Albus, the conversation would rapidly degrade as he would undoubtedly be peppered with curious questions about Muggle life in general and Snape did not have patience for that. Especially in front of Lupin. Albus could just as easily peruse Burbage's knowledge of such trivialities (as she was the new Muggle Studies Professor Severus had been told) but no. Albus would go out of his way to ask Severus instead, knowing how it annoyed him so. Albus may have more self-control than say, Arthur Weasley (a man Lucius had been apt to declare distaste with for similar enthusiasm over Muggle things) but he was just as bad.

Hearing a faint blare of a car horn in the distance, Snape tugged his robes as he quickened his pace towards the castle.

Hallucination or no, Severus Snape was not about to get run over by a blasted Muggle car in the middle of the woods.