When the students entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they would find that the desks had been moved out of the way, leaving a rather large open area in the middle of the room. This was the signal that today’s lesson would not be spent in lecture, but rather in application. Sitting in the space, nearer to his desk was a worn black trunk that contained something that seemed to be very angry as a ruckus was made by the container’s thumping around on the ground. For those that had grown up with magic, the contents inside may not have come as any surprise, but for nearly, if not all, it would be the first time they would be taking on the creature themselves.
“Place everything except your wand aside and gather around the trunk,” Drake called out to the third years. After all the students had assembled where he was, he began his lecture, “Fear. It’s an emotional response to threats and danger. If you allow fear to paralyze you, you will be unable to defend yourself in the situation, which could mean harm or worse, either to you or to someone else. However, fear can also be powerful in keeping one safe. It heightens our senses. We are able to hear better, see better, even respond better, so long as it doesn’t control us. Today, we will be learning to be the masters of our fear.”
He paused a moment to allow what he was saying to sink in, then continued, “In order to do this, we are going to be using the creature that currently resides in this trunk, a boggart. Some of you may already be familiar with what a boggart is. However, for those that are not, a boggart is a dark creature. Though, they tend to be more frustrating than anything else. On rare occasion, they can be helpful and food can placate the creature, but they prefer causing mischief by creating mishaps and hiding items. They are able to remain undetected by occupying dark, enclosed spaces and through their shape-shifting ability. No one knows what form the boggart takes where nobody can see it.
Our concern is what the boggart does when in view. They shift into whatever frightens us, whether it is a spider, a snake, or something else.” Drake was thinking about what scared him most when he said something else, but he wasn’t about to tell the students. Any parent could have easily guessed, though, as it was any parent’s worst fear. “But a boggart can be defeated with the relatively simple Riddikulus spell.” With a wave of his wand, the word appeared on the chalkboard. He had found that, even with practical application, it was a useful reference to the students. “Repeat after me, Re-dic-u-lous.” He repeated the pronunciation a couple more times until he was satisfied that everyone appeared to be saying it correctly.
Once he was, Drake moved on, “The wand movement is a quick forward swish.” He didn’t bother to demonstrate more than a couple times, as it was fairly easy, especially for the third years that had mastered more complex movements. “Everyone line up into a straight line. When I open the trunk, I want each of you to take a turn with the boggart.” He waited a few moments for most of the third years to gather into a straight line, give or take a few bunched areas. Releasing the latch to allow the creature to come forward, he stated, “Begin.” He stayed off to the side, but close by in case any experienced trouble with their turn.
OOC: For the cutout activity, think of the wand acting like a flashlight to cast images. Otherwise, have fun and be creative. The more detailed and imaginative a post is, the more House points can be earned. Also, please remember that posts should be a minimum of ten sentences (approximately two paragraphs).
Subthreads:
Like a story, only with less fire and more toys. by Grayson Wright with Holly Greer
Staff House: Aladren Subject: Charms Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 13
Like a story, only with less fire and more toys.
by Grayson Wright
Because he was shorter than most of the boys in his class, Gray couldn't hang very far back in class. Instead, he put as much room between himself and the trunk in front of the room as he could without actually being at the back of the class area, which was a little tougher than it sounded. He felt slightly cheated when the order came to gather around the trunk, rearranging the students and putting him in the front row.
The first word of the lecture made Gray worry. He'd read a lot about frightening things, but it was different when it was in a book. He could put a book down whenever he wanted to and rest secure in the knowledge that nothing in it had anything to do with him or his real life. Because of that, books seldom even gave him nightmares. On the other hand - and it was an impressive other hand - those nightmares had to be about the worst things ever to happen to him.
Maybe it was just the way he phrased his speech, but Gray couldn't help thinking Professor O'Leary wanted to - and, therefore, would - scare him a little worse than that. He also had a feeling he was about to embarrass himself in a public place.
He felt a tiny bit of relief when he heard it was a just a boggart. He had little experience of them himself, but his father occasionally had to deal with them when they got in unused dresser drawers. His father was by no means a great wizard, which meant, when combined with the teacher having the go-ahead to teach them to third years, that they could be handled. Hearing they were mostly just frustrating also helped; Gray understood frustration better than fear.
All of that was turned on its head when they were told what a boggart turned into. How could something frightening just be frustrating?
More importantly, what was he most afraid of, and how would it manifest itself in front of everyone in the third year? To his momentary horror, that thought came a second before he realized he was first in line.
It's not real, he told himself firmly as Professor O'Leary started to open the Trunk of Doom. It's like a story. It's not real. He was still reciting his brand new mantra when, abruptly, thin air turned into a dragon.
For a moment, in something like shock, Gray just stared at what some odd corner of his brain had dreamed up. He had - to the best of his knowledge - never seen a dragon before, but he'd come up with something he thought looked lifelike and thoroughly frightening. For starters, it stood as tall as the ceiling. For another, it was scaly, with long wings and a long neck and far too many sharp-looking body parts.
That stage lasted for only a moment before he realized he had just conjured up a dragon, in a classroom with a lot of people in it, and that this had the potential to be bad. He wanted to throw himself to the floor - he would make a less noticeable target that way - or to run for dear life. Running sounded good, but he had read enough adventure books to know it would get him roasted.
Except -
It's not real. With that idea to steady him and all of his attention on a spell he thought Professor O'Leary - a really excellent gentleman with the very most exhaustive knowledge of defensive spellwork in the world - might have taught him a century or two earlier, Gray pointed his tiny-looking wand at the dragon head sweeping down to, if he was not completely mistaken, eat him and said, "Riddikulus!"
At the exact moment he thought he'd done it wrong and was about to be eaten, the dragon was replaced by a blue-and-red bouncy ball.
He felt like he was shaking. If that was what it was like to live in a story, he would happily die at home and make up adventures for people who didn't exist and had just as little in common with him as possible. The entire thing - even with his first reaction - hadn't been a full minute, but it had felt much longer. He moved out of the way more rapidly than he'd done anything in a long time, making no eye contact on his way to the back of the line. Maybe the public embarrassment hadn't come into play the way he had thought it would, but Gray still doubted he'd ever manage to live this one down.
A small part of him, however, was pleased. He, Gray Wright, the ninth soul unfortunate enough to have a name he thought sounded like an investment company or a broom manufacturer, had just sort of defeated a dragon.
16Grayson WrightLike a story, only with less fire and more toys.113Grayson Wright05
I like my stories to be censored of all scary things
by Holly Greer
This was not going to be one of the good DADA classes. Holly knew this the moment she caught sight of the angry looking trunk shaking and snarling in the middle of the floor. The lecture only made her trepidation grow and bloom into the very thing they were supposed to be learning to control. She tried to back up as far away from the box and the front of the line as possible, but when Grayson Wright began the first confrontation, she hadn't gotten far enough.
She drew in a deep breath as the trunk opened and out came a giant dragon with teeth and a maw easily able to swallow both her and Grayson whole at the same time. Holly screamed. An earsplitting shriek of unbridled terror escaped her mouth and rubbed her vocal chords raw as she screamed as loudly and long as her lungs could physically maintain the sound.
Having screamed out her oxygen supply, and with fear overpowering even the double dose of anti-anxiety potions she'd taken at the sight of the box, Holly's body had only one recourse. Her vision darkened, blotting out the awful image of the monster before her (thankfully before she had to witness it eat Grayson who she thought was a nice enough boy and undeserving of such a horrible fate) and her conscious mind shut down before she could give herself a heart attack.
Holly's brown eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed in a dead faint.\r\n\r\n
1Holly GreerI like my stories to be censored of all scary things123Holly Greer05