Boggarts, how I detest thee. on Defense Against the Dark Arts

Sustitute Professor Jera Valson

September 18, 2014 3:55 PM

Intermediates (3-5) class - Face Your Fear by Sustitute Professor Jera Valson

The topic of fear in DADA was one that ran repeatedly throughout the syllabus for all year groups, which was understandable; Jera did not doubt that fear of a thing only made it more dangerous. Fear could affect reflexes, reasoning abilities, or simply just cause serious discomfort. If a person could forgo all these distractions by eliminating fear as a factor then that was surely the most sensible course of action to take.

Today, the third, fourth and fifth year students would be facing their fears in class, quite literally, as she had procured a boggart for the day’s lesson. As a seasoned magical creatures professional (she was now a fully qualified dragon trainer), Professor Valson had numerous contacts who could supply her with just about any fauna she required. This particular creature was young, not quite a teenager, so should have double benefits of not being too terrifying, and being rather more easy to subdue that its more mature counterparts. As she was not technically the DADA professor (although she had now taught a great number of these classes), Jera most certainly did not want to be held responsible for any disasters, no matter how minor.

“Okay, everyone,” the substitute professor greeted the intermediate students who had by now come to recognise her as the stand-in teacher, “today is a practical class.” This much was probably evident by the arrangement of desks pushed all the way to the back of the room, with an empty space towards the front, housing just a single storage chest. “You will be facing the boggart.” As if on cue, the large, wooden chest at the front of the classroom emitted an ominous series of thumps.

They had spent the previous lesson discussing the creatures and how to combat one, so Jera simply spent a couple of minutes going over the main details, including the spell. “Wands out, and form an orderly line, please. Five extra House points to whoever is brave enough to go first!”

She would have demonstrated the spell herself first, if her own transformation wasn’t quite so eerie. Her mother as an animated corpse would be sufficiently scary in and of itself, but as there was a portrait of her mother within Sonora’s walls, she didn’t want to frighten any of the more sensitive students with visions of inferi whenever they came upon it. Overall, it was much better to let a student make the initial demonstration, and Professor Valson was more than content to bestow points as a reward for this convenience.

She stood just to the side so as not to distract the boggart, but ready to intervene if necessary. “Okay, step into the space, and I’ll let him out.” With a flick of her wand, the chest unlocked. The lid lifted, and Jera waited with the rest of the class to see what would emerge.”

(Site posting rules apply. Be as creative as you like, within realms of realism. Posting means points!)

Subthreads:

Boggarts, how I detest thee. by Ava Fletcher, Aladren with Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus

I'd really rather not. by Duncan Brockert, Teppenpaw with Leo Princeton, Crotalus

Hickory dickory dock by Emrys Lucan, Aladren with Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

I've done this before. by Keme RunningBear, Aladren with Adam Spencer, Pecari, Keme RunningBear

In time for All Hallows' Eve. by Charlotte Spencer, Crotalus with Liliana Bannister, Pecari

Anxiety is what I do best. by Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus

Take that! by Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw

0 Sustitute Professor Jera Valson Intermediates (3-5) class - Face Your Fear 0 Sustitute Professor Jera Valson 1 5

Ava Fletcher, Aladren
September 19, 2014 7:38 PM

Ava Fletcher, Aladren
Peripheral
Written by: Mathilde Reinhardt

Boggarts, how I detest thee. by Ava Fletcher, Aladren
Boggarts. Ava had been dreading this particular lesson all year. She figured that at some point it would have been a practical lesson, as Sonora had rather hands on classes. However, while she enjoyed the other professors hands on classes, and in general the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, she wasn't quite sure how she felt about this particular class.

She didn't really know what her biggest fear was and the moment she had stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom she felt her heart clench and an unusual sensation fill her body- starting from her stomach and rising up to her shoulders and then down her arms. It seemed to leap from her finger tips to her legs before continuing through to her feet. She wavered slightly and her mind began to race, trying to figure out what her biggest fear was: a bear? Or perhaps a poisonous snake. There was always the fear of making a potion wrong and accidentally killing a patient later on in life once she graduated and became Healer; or yet her mother not coming home from a trip. Now that Ava thought about it she realized that she was actually afraid of a lot of things.

Ava was so busy thinking about what her fear might be that she almost didn't hear Professor Valson giving the class the go ahead and found herself near the front of the line. "Deep breaths, Ava," she said to herself as she gripped her wand tightly when it was her turn and stepped forward. The polished wood of the chest would have distracted her any other day and she would have admired the woodwork, adding it to her mental collection of pretty things but today she was more focused on the scene in front of her. An old man staggered around in the space of the classroom allotted to the boggart and Ava recognized him as her grandfather. However, something about him was off. His skin was a weird color, sort of pallid, and his face was gaunt and hollow. Around his ankles were long, dragging chains and around his wrists were similar ones. The clinking site made Ava sick and the longer she looked at it the more and more grotesque it got.

"R-rid-ddikulus," she stuttered, her voice slightly wavering. Ava's forehead puckered and she shook her head. "Riddikulus, riddikulus, riddikulus, riddikulus!" The last time she cast the spell seemed to have somewhat worked and the picture before her became grainy like an old film, her grandfather's face slowly shifting back and forth between his and Micheal Hordern's, the actor who played the ghost of Marley in Scrouge, a Christmas time tradition between her and her grandfather for as long as she could remember*. The spell having been cast successfully, Ava now smiled at the happy memory of her time with her grandfather and let out a delighted giggle before taking her place at the back of the line. She was exhausted and she didn't particularly fancy having another turn. She could only hope the lesson would run out of time before it became her turn again.

"This lesson sucks," she said to no one in particular.

OOC: Ava doesn't actually have to be the first in line, just towards the front so anyone could have already gone :)

*It is this ghost of Marley from A Christmas Carol, that Ava imagines the ghost of her grandfather to look like. Not because her grandfather is a bad man but more because the ghost of Marley was the first real memory she has of a ghost, being raised by her Muggle grandfather.

10 Ava Fletcher, Aladren Boggarts, how I detest thee. 0 Ava Fletcher, Aladren 0 5

Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus
September 21, 2014 1:08 PM

Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus
Alumnus
House: Crotalus
Written by: Allegra Brockert

Age in Post: 14

I can't imagine anyone really likes them. by Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus
Tristan generally enjoyed DADA more than any other class, other than Flying his first year. While he wasn't bad any subject, he felt this one-and Transfiguration-were his best. However, DADA excited him more, he loved the adrenaline rush that came with facing down something dangerous and loved deflecting other spells that were fired at him. Since Tristan, having not played Quidditch here at Sonora, doubted he'd be able to play professionally, as had always been his dream since as long as he could remember, maybe he'd become an Auror instead. That was so much more exciting than working in the family business.

Admittedly though, the lesson made Tristan a bit...uneasy. He wasn't the least bit afraid of facing his own fear-not that he knew how to make it the least bit funny other than transferring it to someone else. Who might not be afraid of it. Still though, boggarts were easy if one's worst fears were something they could handle. Tristan didn't even think about his own very much at all. It was way too minor and unlikely.

The problem was that he thought Serena might freak out. She did not share the Crotalus' fondness for the class and some people reacted really badly to their fears. Not to mention that some people were also tremendously embarrassed by them. The third year was that kind of person. Though if it were most people, he probably would not have cared that much.

He actually rather wondered if his roommate was going to be one of those people that lost it. Last year, when someone had hexed him, he'd run crying to his brother.While Tristan would feel bad for his cousin, he wouldn't for the other Crotalus. Leo should be more of a man about it. In fact, Tristan might be trying not to laugh at him if that was the case. There would be at least eye-rolling on his part.

The fourth year stepped forward, eager to be first and show everyone how it was done. If this was being taught to third years, it would not be a problem for him at all.

In front of him, the scene shifted and he saw himself begging, dressed in rags. Despite it being a bit embarassing for people to see him like that, Tristan was not that bothered. It wasn't the real him anyway and never would be. Besides, what pureblood wasn't a little afraid of losing status at least a little? And that's what it was, a little.

The difficult part was making it funny. Fortunately, he came up with an idea. It wasn't a great one but it was something. " Riddikulus " Tristan said, with his usual confidence. The image changed to himself panhandling and playing a kazoo. Dreadful annoying instruments and it was still not the most flattering image, but...kazoos were kind of funny. Even the word kazoo was kind of funny.

Stepping back, Tristan watched his classmates. He figured Ava Fletcher's boggart was some sort of relative in prisoned and starving. An older relative. Possibly a grandparent or great-grandparent.

When she was finished, he found himself fairly near her and overheard what she said. "It's not that bad, but I can understand why you wouldn't like it. Lots of people don't. You handled it all right though." She had, she didn't freak and that was a measure of success to a degree.

11 Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus I can't imagine anyone really likes them. 264 Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus 0 5

Duncan Brockert, Teppenpaw
September 21, 2014 2:03 PM

Duncan Brockert, Teppenpaw
Alumnus
House: Teppenpaw
Written by: Allegra Brockert

Age in Post: 13
Birthday: February 10

I'd really rather not. by Duncan Brockert, Teppenpaw
Oh this lesson was not going to be fun. Honestly, Duncan didn't know why boggarts even existed. All he'd ever seen them do is cause misery and he didn't like anyone's misery. Even if there was someone that he hated, which there wasn't, he still didn't wish for them to suffer.

Not to mention that last summer, there had been a boggart in their house and he'd been the one to run afoul of it. Duncan had been racked with the most unimaginable pain and he really didn't want to repeat the experience. He'd ended up writhing on the floor unable to do anything to vanquish the creature. It had tormented him until his father came along and did the job. Interestingly enough, the Teppenpaw still really didn't know what his father's boggart was, because well, he'd been hurting too badly.

So now he was even more afraid of pain and it was possible that this was going to hurt even more than last time. Plus he knew he was going to fail the lesson miserably as the crippling agony rendered him incapable of doing anything-and pain was just not funny and there was no way to make it so.

Duncan found his way to the back of the line. He was not enthusiastic about it and he was more than happy to let Tristan go first. He figured that the closer to the back of the line he was, the shorter amount of time that he'd have to suffer. Plus, there were enough of them that the boggart would hopefully get confused enough before he had to go.

As the line moved forward, he just felt more dread. Duncan didn't consider himself a coward, but he really really did not want that excrutiating misery. "I wish there was some way out of this." He already knew that he couldn't do it, while if his worst fear was something else, he might have been able to.

11 Duncan Brockert, Teppenpaw I'd really rather not. 271 Duncan Brockert, Teppenpaw 0 5

Emrys Lucan, Aladren
September 23, 2014 8:40 PM

Emrys Lucan, Aladren
Alumnus
House: Aladren
Written by: Mathilde Reinhardt

Age in Post: 14

Hickory dickory dock by Emrys Lucan, Aladren
Boggarts had never really freaked Emrys out too much. Though for some students he figured facing one’s greatest fear was pretty scary, he didn’t really think it would be for him. He thought the situation would be more embarrassing than anything especially because above all else he feared grandfather clocks. It had all started one day when he was five years old. Wesley had been six and Caelia had just been born. Everyone had been paying more attention to the new baby than to Wesley and himself and in a fit of anger they had stomped off to self-entertain. Emrys had accidentally locked himself in the grandfather clock that sat in his grandfather’s living room during this event and when Wesley had run to tell the adults they had thought the two boys were just telling tall tales to get attention. Emrys had been stuck in the cramped space for a span of a few hours, sobbing while Wesley sat outside the clock trying to comfort him by reading him stories out of his newest books-- Frightening tales for children who have a hard time being frightened by Wilfred the Ghastly. Needless to say, it had been a rather traumatizing event.

So, when Professor Valson dismissed them to form a line to fight the boggart, Emrys battled his way to the back of it, hoping that the class would run out of time before it reached him. There were, after all, only sixty minutes in the period and thirty-four students in the Intermediate class. Valson had spent the beginning of class introducing the day’s lesson and waiting for the students to jostle themselves into a line. Besides, someone was bound to take longer than two minutes to deal with the boggart so if he held back he might be able to avoid the whole situation. Grandfather clocks- what fifteen year old was afraid of a clock?

While Emrys waited, he observed some of his classmates-- Tristan Spaulding seemed to take issue with being homeless, a valid fear in Emrys’ opinion, and Ava’s boggart was a ghost of her grandfather. He recognized the man from pictures Ava had shown him and also recognized the scene as something from the Muggle story A Christmas Carol which his maternal grandmother had a weird fondness for (the only Muggle thing she enjoyed other than the Camelot tales). When Ava made her way to the end of the line Emrys sent her a sympathetic grin and contemplated moving out of line to go talk to her-- it certainly would postpone his turn at the boggart, but Spaulding got there first. Emrys shrugged and took a slow step forward as yet another classmate took their place at the end of the line, cheeks slightly pink from the talking to the scary grandmother-type boggart had given her*.

Before long, Emrys found himself nearing the beginning of the line and before he knew it, the boggart was morphing into a life-sized grandfather clock. Emrys prepared himself for the giggles of his classmates but the clock didn’t stop there. It grew legs and arms and it’s face turned into a real face, the VI on it turning sideways to form a large frown, the two hands making a villainous mustache and the top three numbers (XI, XII, and I) scrambled into a pair of quite evil looking eyes. The clock let out a groan and began to march towards him. With every step it took the room seemed to grow darker (or was that just in his head) and it’s arms reached out for him, VI opening wide like it wanted to gobble him up. Emrys took back what he had thought earlier-- boggarts were rather scary.

“Riddikulus!” He cast, aiming his wand at where the clock’s “heart” ought to have been. Of course, he hadn’t been thinking of a funny situation and so the spell did nothing. As soon as the word left his lips though Emrys realized this and thought hard about how to make the scene before him funny. The next time he cast the spell, the boggart took a misstep, plunging it’s foot down too hard which caused the large clock to break-- bits off wood splintered, cogs and springs flew out, the mustache hands dropped to the floor and the twelve Roman numerals began to dance around the floor as they fell off the clock’s face. Emrys began to laugh and lowered his wand. This was a good way to try and cure him of his fear.

*OOC: Brief mention of Liliana Bannister included with permission from her author who is currently working on her DADA post.

10 Emrys Lucan, Aladren Hickory dickory dock 260 Emrys Lucan, Aladren 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
September 25, 2014 10:42 AM

Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
Alumnus
House: Aladren
Written by: Rhy

Age in Post: 15

I was expecting mice from that title by Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
Francesca liked to think of herself as a strong-willed person. She wasn't afraid of having metal balls batted at her. She wasn't afraid to stand up for what she believed in. There were very few situations that caused her to quell or back down. That didn't always mean she was unafraid but she was usually willing to face it. However, when Professor Valson announced that they would be tackling Boggarts, she felt like a cold lump had fallen into the pit of her stomach. Unlike pop quizzes or quick fire spellwork tests, she couldn't just grit her teeth and bear it. She had faced a Boggart before, during the team challenges in her first year. It had become her mother, sort of, but saddened and defeated. If her fear was something generic, she thought she could have done it – she didn't relish the idea of vampires but would be quite prepared to tackle that in front of her classmates. But her Boggart had been so personal, had used such psychological warfare on her. She didn't want that paraded in front of people; for all that they thus far seemed to have limited inclination to mount such attacks against her, she didn't want to provide them with ammunition.

She wasn't sure whether it would be better to go early or late. Early on, more people would probably be preoccupied with the worry about what they would have to face. However, they would all still be in the line, whereas perhaps afterwards they would drift away to enjoy their own space and chat to their friends. She found a place towards the back of the line, though it was pretty hard as a lot of people seemed to be resisting the lure of five house points and trying to go towards the end. Perhaps if she could stop the Boggart before it said anything.... Then maybe people would just assume she was scared of her mother getting sick or older. It was when it talked that it got personal. So, how to stop it speaking and make it funny.... Perhaps, instead of words, when she opened her mouth a cuckoo would pop out, like in a clock. That was more creepy than amusing but it was the best she had.

As she stepped up the previous person's boggart began to shift, shrinking and separating. It didn't seem to be forming into her mother. She hesitated, trying to work out this unexpected turn of events. And then before her stood Ginny and Adam, almost exactly like the real versions who were presumably somewhere behind her except that on each of their chests was a bright and shining badge with one large word emblazoned across the centre. WAIL.

“It's back,” Adam explained, looking at her pityingly.

“And we're in,” added Ginny. “Which means we don't want to be seen with the likes of you.”

“And Jay wants you off the team. No girls allowed. Go find something to clean or sew,” Adam advised her with a nasty smirk.

It wasn't real, she reminded herself. The initial shock wore off and she raised her wand.

“Riddikulus!” she cast sharply. Suddenly the fake Ginny was holding a cuckoo clock. That was pathetic... She hadn't taken the time to focus on making it funny and it was just the residue of her previously formed idea.... She tried to rally her thoughts, funny.... funny clown faces or something. The figures of her friends were now chanting the worst words that people in WAIL had for people like her. Or what they thought people like her were even though she wasn't. The last thing she needed, or the cause needed, was people in her class misinterpreting this, and assuming that her fear was them finding out she was that way inclined. That wasn't it. When she had been a first year, when she had first faced the Boggart, she hadn't thought she'd ever make friends. She hadn't had any to lose. Now she did....

“Riddikulus,” she tried again, focussing on turning the two faces in front of her into clowns. Funny and also anonymous, not Ginny and Adam any more. She'd never been great at spells on the first try and even though they'd gone through the motions in previous classes it was the kind of spell that only worked in a real situation. Defence was often like that, which was why it was her least favourite class. With Charms and Transfiguration, you could gradually build your skills up. You could in Defence, but you usually suffered ill effects in the mean time. A few odd patches of colour appeared on her friends' faces, like they'd had paint thrown at them.

Francesca sighed, stepping aside. She tried to tell herself that she'd had a go, and that was all that was really required. If any of them fully succeeded in defeating the Boggart, the rest of the class would be kind of a bust. And she couldn't keep standing there for try after try because everyone was supposed to have a turn. In spite of all that though, it felt a lot like she was admitting defeat. Her best hadn't been good enough. She turned her back on the Boggart, letting its taunts fade out as the next person stepped up and it shifted. She took several deep breaths, reminding herself that it wasn't real and there was no point getting upset over something that wasn't real. It wasn't very easy though when it seemed real and when she hadn't been able to change that... She was still trying to force herself to feel better when she heard a laugh behind her. She turned back, to see Emrys stepping away from... a clock with arms? She supposed that could be scary though it was a weird thing to think up in the first place.

“You're scared of clocks?” she queried, perhaps sounding a little more sharp than was really appropriate. In reality, she didn't trust her voice not to crack if she tried speaking at greater length, and just wanted someone to come and distract her. Weird clock fear seemed a reasonable avenue to pursue for that.

OOC – as you said Emrys was at the back (and I took that to mean very back, last in line) I had to wibble the time around a bit. I hope you feel it works. Let me know if not.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren I was expecting mice from that title 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren 0 5

Keme RunningBear, Aladren
September 28, 2014 3:34 PM

Keme RunningBear, Aladren
Peripheral
Written by: Amelle Nicchi

I've done this before. by Keme RunningBear, Aladren
Keme was not really disturbed by the continuous topic of ‘fear’ in Defense class. It was sort of a necessary topic that they would have to go through along with the many physical lessons dealing with a wand and dueling, so to speak, but that didn’t mean he was necessarily looking forward to the practical bits of the theories. Keme didn’t have many fears in his life, aside from the normal everyday fears that people had, but that didn’t mean he really wanted to face any of them.

Of course, his wish would remain only a wish as today was the day he was dreading. The Boggart day. He knew it would come. He remembered in his first year when he had first faced the Boggart during the team challenges. He remembered the blood stained mountain lion as it perched itself on top of the professor’s desk. Actually… it was the desk in this room. It had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that had held the Boggart. Weird. Full circle, he guessed. Keme wasn’t sure if his greatest fear was still that of the Mountain Lion, but remembering it on the desk still sent chills down his spine. Nothing remotely traumatic had occurred since his first year. There was no reason for him to believe that it wouldn’t be the Mountain Lion.

Keme entered into the line of students to await his turn. He didn’t focus very much on the others around him, only briefly glancing at what others put up as their fears. Some of them he didn’t quite understand. Someone was apparently afraid of sickly prisoners, another of being stuck in dirty clothes… These were strange things indeed, but Keme would do his best to not judge. Who knew what people would think of his own fear. It was not magical, but the animals were prevalent where he lived and there was a good chance of being killed by them if you catch them on a bad day.

It was his turn now and the Boggart turned into that of the lion, it’s muzzle drenched in blood. A low throaty growl could be heard from deep within the pit of his stomach, his eyes glowed a piercing gold. The mountain lion crouched low as though it were preparing to pounce. Keme’s heart was thumping painfully in his chest, his breath was short and shallow, he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He was panicking. Panicking would help no one. Panicking would not give him an O in this lesson. Closing his eyes to focus, Keme recalled what it was that he had pictured. Assured now, he pointed his wand at the lion and spoke clearly, ”Riddikulus!” The spell hit the lion and it gave a startled look before shrinking down, no that’s not right, before returning to a younger age, a cub. The cub tried to roar, but only squeaks came out and when it tried to run, it stumbled and fell over itself. Laughter, rare for Keme, came forth, mostly just giddiness for having succeeded in defeating the Boggart.

Now that his turn was over, Keme went to the side of the classroom to watch the rest of them take their turns. Like before, he felt some of their fears were quite strange. Someone’s fear was that of a clock… He didn’t understand what was so frightening about a clock. They were magical, so things moved on their own accord all the time. Maybe the caster was Muggleborn? He wasn’t sure, he couldn’t see who had done it. Someone else, Francesca, it seemed, was terrified of being bullied by her friends. It was quite a shock to see two of his peers being rude to another, even though it wasn’t real. He wasn’t sure how those involved would feel about it though. He was a little more at ease now with his fear and now just wanted to be done with this whole topic.

6 Keme RunningBear, Aladren I've done this before. 0 Keme RunningBear, Aladren 0 5

Leo Princeton, Crotalus
September 29, 2014 1:54 PM

Leo Princeton, Crotalus
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Written by:

Glad to find we agree. by Leo Princeton, Crotalus
DADA had always been one of Leo's stronger courses. He was incredibly interested in hexes and curses and ways to defend himself from the Dark Arts. He did, privately, want to learn more about the Dark Arts instead of merely how to defend oneself, but he didn't think it wise to go around telling people that.

Today the topic was the boggart, ridiculous creatures that were really of no use to anyone. They were loads of fun to have around for All Hallows’ Eve, but otherwise he didn’t understand why they existed. Leo had never faced a boggart before; the one time a boggart had somehow gotten into the mansion, Leo had only been around three or four and his father had defeated it rather quickly. That said, he wasn’t sure what the boggart would transform into nor could he think of a way to make it look ridiculous. Leo fancied he didn’t have too many fears. He got along with his family members well and wasn’t afraid of his grandfather the way so many of his classmates seemed to be. If anything, he probably only feared death itself. Facing a boggart wouldn’t be as difficult as it looked; after all, it was all mind over matter.

He stood in line, eager to face the creature and discover what his greatest fear was. He was standing next to a third year that he wasn’t familiar with. Leo was generally in the habit of ignoring his classmates when he was waiting unless he was really upset about the practical lesson. This, however, was a little more interesting than irritating. His companion, however, didn’t seem to think so, and Leo sympathised with him. “I know what you mean,” he replied, turning to look at him. “In front of everyone as well. But don’t worry, it’ll be over quick. We’re all forced to endure this lesson too so you’re not alone in it.” His blue eyes were sincere, though his cherubic facial expression was generally guarded. Leo was trying very hard to make friends with his peers; until now it hadn’t been a priority, but as he grew older, Leo found he wanted that companionship even if it was partially motivated by seeing his brothers and his cousins form close friendships with their own classmates. Even if it was temporary, he wanted that companionship.

It was his turn to go and Leo went ahead to face the creature. It noticed him and changed from its previous form into his father. Corvus Princeton was not a very frightening creature in Leo’s eyes, and he commended the boggart for a nearly flawless replica, though useless in frightening him. Cepheus looked most like their father, but Leo had inherited his blond hair and blue eyes from his dad as well. An image of his father wearing his mum’s clothing came to mind, a very unsuitable representation to put before his classmates, but before Leo raised his wand, the image of his father spoke.

“Leo, you are going to be disowned without a Knut to your name. You are never allowed on the Princeton property again.” The way Corvus spoke was firm and serious, and Leo was nearly convinced. Goose-pimples rose on his arms.

Then his mum joined, the same grim expression on her youthful face. “You are not our son. You are a mudblood. We only cared for you out of pity, not out of love. Go back to the Muggles where you belong.”

There was no music, nothing extraordinary to indicate that they were false representations, only the knowledge that this was supposed to be a boggart and that Leo was in class now here in Arizona. As he stood in front of his parents who continued to rain down insults on him, he reverted back to himself as a young child, helpless and alone all the time in a great mansion with only a house-elf to care for him. He remembered watching his parents and his two older brothers through the banister laughing and opening gifts whilst Leo, naughty Leo, had been sent upstairs with a scolding. He was too young, he was too immature, he was not ready to be a part of the family, not ready to be a part of the fun—

“Riddikulus!” shouted Leo, his voice sounding forceful out of anger instead of humour. His father’s trousers turned into a skirt and his mum’s hair disappeared, but that was all he could do before trudging to the back of the queue, angry at being weakened so in front of his peers. It wasn’t fair, having his parents being sprung onto him like that with such nasty words. Leo was certainly not a muggle-born and his parents did love him. Even if he was the youngest of three sons, Leo was rich, he was handsome and he was certainly wanted. His mum had told him so, and Leo reminded himself of this as his classmates took their turns and the queue moved forward.

When Duncan returned, Leo nodded at him. “How did it go for you?” he asked. He hadn’t paid much attention after he had gotten back into the queue. He’d been trying to recuperate after his slightly traumatic experience, but he put on a brave face, acting as though he hadn’t been affected greatly by the boggart. Leo could pretend to be brave sometimes if it would help him make friends here.

0 Leo Princeton, Crotalus Glad to find we agree. 0 Leo Princeton, Crotalus 0 5

Adam Spencer, Pecari
September 29, 2014 2:00 PM

Adam Spencer, Pecari
Peripheral
Written by:

Does it get any better with experience? by Adam Spencer, Pecari
"Blast it," muttered Adam as the queue began forming to face the boggart. He didn't want to see the fears his classmates had, nor did he want to see his incarnate. Adam ran his fingers through his brown hair nervously. He looked over to where his sister was; she looked like she was trembling and Adam hoped Emrys noticed and would comfort her if he wasn't too preoccupied. There was still some time for Adam to prepare himself to face the magical creature before his turn. He could be strong for his siblings and his parents, but when it came to boggarts, he couldn't hide.

Keme RunningBear went ahead of him, a wizard Adam had always thought to be a bit aloof and difficult to relate to. They came from different worlds, he and Keme, though Adam believed them both to be rather familiar with the magical world. Wherever it was Keme was from, it would not do to discriminate, and Adam decided he'd try to make an effort to befriend Keme, or at least become friendly acquaintances. He wasn't even sure who Keme's friends were; by now, most of his classmates had settled in their cliques. Keme, however, was a bit of an enigma in that area. The boggart approached Keme and Adam watched the mountain lion form. Its image was frightening and seemed very real, but Keme performed well even in the face of imminent, albeit false, danger. Adam was impressed at his year-mate's success, and he gave Keme a smile as he passed.

There were still a couple of people who needed to take their turn before Adam, Emrys and Francesca, and Adam watched as Emrys’s boggart formed into a clock—he wondered what Lucan’s house looked like if he had a fear of clocks—before Francesca took her turn. He was surprised to see himself and Ginny transfigure in front of her, and even more surprised by the words he was saying. Adam had never looked down on his mates, particularly Francesca, for playing Quidditch, nor had he really been faced with witches being discriminated against for playing the sport. Pecari, in fact, was made up of dominantly witches, but Adam wondered if Aladren had ever looked down on her for being the only witch on the team.

Too soon it was Adam’s turn and he swallowed nervously before stepping forward. He was feeling hot and cold all over as the boggart morphed into his youngest sister Lily. She was lying there on the ground white as a sheet, her beautiful auburn hair lying disheveled under her head, her dark brown eyes empty. Chills ran down Adam’s arms and he could hardly breathe. His youngest sister was lying dead before him, and before his very eyes Lily transformed into Jack, looking like he was dying at his feet. “Why didn’t you protect us?” choked Jack before his head hit the floor, and Adam forced himself to remember that this was just a boggart. He closed his eyes briefly before casting the spell.

“Riddikulus!”

The image he had imagined while waiting came forth, and Jack was suddenly wrapped into a rug with only his large clown feet sticking out and kicking. The rug was colourful and made Adam feel better. The lifeless eyes of his younger siblings, however, were burned into Adam’s memory and the temporary pleasure at succeeding at a spell disappeared as he moved to the back of the queue. “Glad that’s over,” said Adam, rubbing his arm to try and get rid of the unsettled feeling in his skin. “At least next time I’ll know what to expect. You did well out there," he added with a nod.

0 Adam Spencer, Pecari Does it get any better with experience? 0 Adam Spencer, Pecari 0 5

Charlotte Spencer, Crotalus
September 29, 2014 2:04 PM

Charlotte Spencer, Crotalus
Peripheral
Written by:

In time for All Hallows' Eve. by Charlotte Spencer, Crotalus
At the mention of boggarts, Charlotte was shaking in her flats. It was no secret that she was a coward; she wasn’t brave like storybook characters or like her brother Adam. Charlotte knew what her greatest fear was even if she’d never seen a boggart before. It had appeared in her nightmares and frightened her in scary stories. She didn’t need to see it in reality. Charlotte had hoped the traumatic practical lessons would stay within the walls of the Charms classroom, but DADA was certainly a traumatic course as well. These spells were in no way helpful to her future occupation as the mistress of the house. This solidified her decision; once she was a sixth year, she was going to drop DADA. Until then, she still had two more years to go.

She wondered briefly if Professor Valson enjoyed watching her students shake in their shoes. Fear was a recurring topic in her syllabus and Charlotte did not appreciate that in the slightest. Fear was something that she avoided as often as she could in reality. It was only in the classroom that she was forced to face them, whether that came in the form of a Quaffle headed for her face or a boggart that would turn into the most disgusting creature known to the wizarding world.

The classmates that went before her were brave, she thought. Charlotte was particularly surprised at Emrys’s fear. A grandfather clock didn’t look very scary even if it was enormous, but before long she watched it morph into a representation of his grandfather. Or, at least she thought that’s what it was. Charlotte wasn’t sure she could respect a fear of clocks as much as she could a fear of one’s relations. She was equally surprised to see her brother at the front of the room spouting out terrible things to Francesca, one of the witches Adam was good friends with. Charlotte knew Adam was more than supportive of witches playing Quidditch; the standard was a bit different in England than it was in America, but Francesca mightn’t be aware of that if she’d lived in America her entire life. Adam’s boggart in turn was frightening, but it touched Charlotte as well. Her brother indeed cared deeply for his siblings, even more for them than their parents.

Before long it was her turn and Charlotte cursed herself silently for not standing at the back of the queue instead of the middle. The creature morphed in front of her very eyes into an Inferius with sharp red eyes and a skeletal body, mud and tree roots hanging off of it as if it had come from the filthy ground. The Inferius was gaunt with only the remnants of a human face on its thin neck. Charlotte was actually shaking now, her knees knocking together and her teeth chattering without her even noticing. It was embarrassing, but this creature was approaching her slowly, making groaning sounds. It held an arm out towards her and Charlotte frantically tried to think of some way to make this disgusting thing funny. How could anyone make an Inferius look ridiculous?

“R-riddikulus!” she stuttered, aiming her wand at the creature’s head. There was nothing funny about it, however, and the spell didn’t work. It was still approaching her and Charlotte stumbled and almost fell in her attempt to walk backwards to get away from it. If even its finger touched her dress, she would have to throw it away. “Riddikulus!” she said a little stronger, imaging it now wearing the exact dress she was wearing. The Inferius stopped, but it took a third try to transform the frightening Inferius into a supermodel with ridiculously frizzy brown hair and a very tall hat.

It was enough to make Charlotte laugh at its appearance and then laugh in relief. She had succeeded even if it had been on the third try. At least she hadn’t tripped and fallen onto her bum. That would have been embarrassing. She went back and took deep breaths to calm her racing heart, allowing her classmates to go on and take their turn. Charlotte would be glad to never face a boggart ever again.

0 Charlotte Spencer, Crotalus In time for All Hallows' Eve. 0 Charlotte Spencer, Crotalus 0 5

Emrys Lucan
September 29, 2014 8:52 PM

Emrys Lucan
Alumnus
House: Aladren
Written by: Mathilde Reinhardt

Age in Post: 14

I almost wish it were- much less embarrassing... by Emrys Lucan
“You're scared of clocks?”

Emrys turned to Francesca Wolseithcrafte, a fellow Aladren a year his senior. “Perhaps,” he answered, not sure how much detail he wanted to go into with her since he didn’t even really know her. He felt awkward-- he’d never held a conversation with the girl yet he now knew one of the most intimate things about her, her greatest fear. He was frustrated that Valson hadn’t made a thick barrier for the boggart to be on with her and the student practicing the spell to be on one side while the rest of them sat on the other, perhaps with desks and essay work to be set to do.

Emrys picked at a hangnail, his wand which was still in his hand moving around a little bit as he did so. “You did alright,” he commented, gesturing with his head towards the boggart. Though the paint splatters hadn’t been particularly amusing like the broken, dancing clock had been, he didn’t think it mattered-- so long as the boggart was transformed enough that it wasn’t scary. “I would have thought your fear would be something else, though it makes sense I guess.” He frowned, realizing that she probably didn’t want to talk about her fear any more than he did. “Sorry. I wasn’t really thinking. Mine’s got a weird story behind it, if you want to know,” he offered off-handedly, hoping to divert her attention away-- she looked rather shaken up and his attempt had ended on a happier note than hers had.

As he waited for her response, he glanced around the room. It seemed that most of the other students seemed to be upset. Indeed there had been a good bit of incidents with loved ones and he wondered yet again why there hadn’t been measures to account for this. Perhaps juice or cookies to give the students something to do other than chatter nervously to each other, hoping that no one was secretly making fun of them about their fear.

“You know,” he said after a while. “There is one good thing about this. Although everyone saw our fears, we saw theirs too, so it’s not like it’s a disadvantage, really. I don’t think anyone can trick a boggart into revealing a fake fear and if they had, well, it’s not like anyone would know, right? Unless they said so, and then they’d either get extra credit for tricking the boggart or be made to do the exercise over again in which case their real fear would be revealed anyway, so whichever way you decide to look at it, we’re all in the same boat, really.”

OOC: Sure, if you like. Or we can just leave his place in line fuzzy so that we don't have to stick to time constraints-- I figure being last in line would put him near the end of class.

10 Emrys Lucan I almost wish it were- much less embarrassing... 260 Emrys Lucan 0 5

Liliana Bannister, Pecari
September 29, 2014 11:38 PM

Liliana Bannister, Pecari
Alumnus
House: Pecari
Written by: Mathilde Reinhardt

Age in Post: 13

To grandmother’s house we go. by Liliana Bannister, Pecari
Defense was Liliana’s best subject. She didn’t know why, particularly, just that she loved it. Her first year, it had been Charms. But now that she was in intermediate classes, she’d discovered the delicious spine curling feeling that accompanied learned about the dark creatures and spells of the world and how to defeat them. The boggart lesson was one that she was torn on. She wasn’t sure what her greatest fear was and though the idea of facing one of the creatures in their book excited her greatly, she also didn’t think it would be an enjoyable encounter. Perhaps afterwards she’d be giddy on adrenaline, but for now she was rather quiet and reflective-- an unusual state for the normally talkative Pecari. Liliana hung back in the line a little bit, deciding that to go in the middle would give her time to see how others did without her boggart being the freshest in her classmate’s memories when it came time to leave the classroom.

The girl who went before her was Charlotte Spencer, a Crotalus who Liliana remembered talking to during her first year during Transfiguration. It was an exercise in cushions, if she was not mistaken, and Charlotte’s had turned out lovely while Liliana had created an awkward, ugly looking thing that, after capturing its likeness on paper, she had since become fond of. Charlotte’s boggart seemed to be an inferni and Liliana smiled, reveling in the shiver it sent down her back. It was creepy and gross and absolutely delightful.

Charlotte’s spell, however, turned it into a supermodel with frizzy brown hair and a tall, tall hat. The image, while amusing, was not as appealing to Liliana and she pursed her lips, unpleased that she had to go next. As Liliana stepped up to the stage, she wondered what her boggart would be and if it would induce such lovely chills like Charlotte’s had. However, Liliana’s boggart was not at all as traditionally frightful and her cheeks were stained pink by the time Boggart-Grandmère opened her pretty rose colored mouth.

“Liliana Colette Bannister!” The old woman shouted, a vein seemingly ready to pop forth from her forehead. “You are a lady! I cannot believe you have been going along with these harebrained schemes all these years? Whatever happened to the nice, polite granddaughter who I instilled proper values into? I am thoroughly disappointed in you and your lack of proper choice--”

Liliana bit her lip and remind herself that this was only a boggart and there was no point in arguing back or trying to console it like she would have her grandmother. The only way to get it to stop would be to cast the Riddikulus spell at it. However, at the moment, she couldn’t come up with a way to make it funny. It wasn’t that she was frozen to her spot, but it was kind of embarrassing to be yelled at in front of all her classmates and she was beginning to realize why it was all her cousins were afraid of Grandmère. She had never been yelled at by Grandmère before and so hadn’t fully been able to experience the bone chilling fear that her voice could give when it reached that shrill decibel.

She managed to make her grandmother into a screeching song bird on her first attempt at the spell, before the boggart turned it’s angry voice into the disappointed one she so hated to hear Grandmère turn to, but she was rather disappointed that she had not gotten a different boggart. She was also confused-- was she really more frightened of Grandmère finding out her part in nefarious activities more than an inferni or a ferocious mountain lion (to take two of her classmate’s boggarts into account)?

After making her way to the back of the line as everyone else before her had, Liliana stepped up to congratulate Charlotte. “You did really well,” she said. “Your boggart was terrifying, and if I hadn’t been such a misbehaved child growing up I’d probably have had something similar to it. I’m just lucky mine was easy to deal with. I don’t think I would have been able to handle an inferni.” This was very true. Just because Liliana liked learning about dark creatures didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid of them. In fact, she was generally downright terrified of the lessons yet for some reason she found the fright fun. Facing an inferni probably would have frozen her to the spot, while watching someone else deal with a boggart as one allowed her the opportunity to observe from close up without actually having to be frightened.

10 Liliana Bannister, Pecari To grandmother’s house we go. 274 Liliana Bannister, Pecari 0 5

Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus
September 30, 2014 8:18 PM

Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus
Peripheral
Written by: Amelle Nicchi

Anxiety is what I do best. by Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus
The moment the professor confirmed for them what their lesson for the day was, Ginny’s heart sank. She did not want to have anything to do with the lesson. She really hated this course work regarding fear. More so than that, she really disliked Defense Against the Dark Arts and couldn’t wait until the end of the year when she could officially drop it from her course load. In all honesty, she felt that if she were ever to come across a situation where Defense was needed, she was doomed anyway. Her wand work was shotty and she was not very good on her feet. She just wasn’t quick witted enough to know what to do. She might get one spell off, but there was little chance that it would hit the intended target or be strong enough to make any difference. Eventually, whatever danger was after her, it would get her. So why put herself through all of this if she didn’t have to?

She wasn’t saying the general idea of learning defense was useless because it wasn’t. She just wasn’t going to continue on with the Advance knowledge of it since it was probably more geared towards people who were likely to have some sort of career in Defense.

Ginny had faced a Boggart before when she had been a first year. It had been during the team challenges. She hadn’t known what was going on during all of that, but had relatively enjoyed it. Her Boggart back then had been a thunder storm. Although she still was not to fond of them, she wasn’t as terrified as she once had been. No, her Boggart was vastly different for her now. There was so much she was petrified of, worried over, and she didn’t want to face it. She certainly didn’t want to face it in front of her classmates.

When the line began to form, Ginny made her way to the back. Chewing on her lip and wringing her hands together out of nervous habit, Ginny watched others take their turn. Each time someone came back, she moved further back, blending in with the people who had already gone. She was still trying to work out if she would take a turn and if she did, how would she manage it, when Francesca went and Ginny suddenly heard her own voice from the front of the room. Humiliation at the idea of people thinking her that way filled her cheeks with a bright red hue. She was definitely not going up there. She didn’t care if she received failing marks for this lesson; she wasn’t going to do it. She knew exactly what her Boggart would be. It would be Francesca and Adam telling her that they hated her, that they wished they had never befriended her. It would be her teachers ripping the badge away from her and telling her they had made a mistake, it would be that of her parents telling her she was useless and that they had never wanted her.

No, she would not do this lesson. She would not allow her classmates, her friends, anyone, to see what she was most afraid of. They would mock her. She didn’t want anyone to know how terrified she was of having absolutely no one. What was a failing grade for a class she had no intention of continuing anyway? Still full of anxiety and chewing on her bottom lip, Ginny kept quiet and waited for the lesson to be over with.

6 Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus Anxiety is what I do best. 0 Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus 0 5

Keme RunningBear
September 30, 2014 10:06 PM

Keme RunningBear
Alumnus
House: Aladren
Written by: Amelle Nicchi

Age in Post: 15

As long as your fear never changes, yes. by Keme RunningBear
Keme was surprised to find Adam Spencer standing beside him. Not that he minded, it just wasn’t an occurrence that happened very often. Or ever. Adam had a solid group of friends. He seemed to get along with his Quidditch teams and hung around with the other Prefects, but maybe he just needed to distance himself after his friend’s Boggart turned into him. Adam’s Boggart had been rather intense, if Keme was correct in assuming the people were relatives of his. People he had cared deeply for and felt a responsibility toward. Keme wondered why his hadn’t been as personal? He just never felt as big of a fear of something happening to his family the way others seemed to.

He nodded in agreement to Adam’s assessment of the lesson. Since Keme did it just fine the first time, he didn’t feel the need to do so again. Others might feel like they needed more practice though. “Thanks.” Keme stated when Adam gave him kudos on his spell work. “You should have seen me during the Team Challenges in our first year. I was not quite as good then.” Keme joked, a grin spreading across his tanned skin at the memory. “I didn’t know it was a Boggart back then. One minute the room was empty, then next, there was a bloody lion on the Professor’s desk. Ran screaming.” Keme chuckled at himself.

“I guess it’s a good thing that my worst fear hasn’t changed at all. Or maybe that’s not a good thing? I’m not sure. Either way, I at least know how to fend off a Boggart. Probably not a real lion though. I still might run screaming if I ever saw one again.” He still had a nightmare every so often of that one time he ran into the man eating one with his dad. Rare to have them, but they could still leave him cold and shaking.

“Your Boggart image was pretty intense.” Keme commented. “Do you mind if I ask what you were supposed to be protecting them from?” He remembered the boy saying something along the lines of why he hadn’t protected them, but was there anything in particular Adam felt he needed to or was it just a general ‘they died because you didn’t…’ sort of thing? Keme supposed it didn’t really matter, the image of dead people someone cared about was torturous enough.

6 Keme RunningBear As long as your fear never changes, yes. 249 Keme RunningBear 0 5

Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw
October 02, 2014 4:55 PM

Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw
Alumnus
House: Teppenpaw
Written by: Allegra Brockert

Age in Post: 13

Take that! by Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw
Even more than Transfiguration, Serena disliked DADA. At least in Transfig, she didn't object to the subject itself, just that she wasn't as good as she felt she should be. In fact, being good at it was what she desired most now. This class, on the other hand, was scary . Hexes and dark creatures were not things she wanted to deal with, period. Serena quite frankly couldn't wait until after CATS so she could drop it.

To make matters worse, they'd been studying fears. She spent the class even more scared than usual, dreading the practical lessons when she had to go up against terrifying things. Yesterday they'd learned to defeat dangerous creatures and Serena sincerely doubted she'd be able to handle it in practice. She'd never been a brave person and would probably run away screaming when faced with such beings.

As Professor Valson mentioned today's lesson, the Teppenpaw felt sick to her stomach. She'd been expecting it, but that didn't make it any better. Especially since the anticipation of it had been horrifying in itself.

Serena found herself towards the middle of the line, even though she'd tried to get as close to the back as possible. Unfortunately, others seemed to have the same idea. Duncan had made a beeline for it. Tristan, on the other hand, had volunteered to go first. He was so much braver than she was.

Maybe the middle wasn't so bad, it was less time she would have to feel like throwing up.

Eventually, it was her turn. Her palms began to sweat, and she felt even more nauseous. She even began to shake a little even though it wasn't noticeable to others, as the boggart turned into Carrie. The older blonde was tormenting her, saying how weak and pathetic she was, how she hid behind her big sister. Serena closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on how to make her cousin's bullying of her seem funny . Why couldn't she be more like Arabella, like Tristan? Even the twins could have handled it better and they were two years younger than she was.

However, Serena pictured Carrie's nose growing huge and pointy. Her skin was green with warts and she was dressed up as a chicken. That above all animals was poetic justice, given that was what she was accusing of the third year of being. Also, she decided to borrow a page from Tristan's book and the noise Carrie was making suddenly sounded like a kazoo. Serena began to laugh as the boggart fit this image to a T. She stepped aside, relieved that it was over and a bit proud of herself. She actually felt a bit bad for the boggart! It had turned into something worse than itself.

11 Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw Take that! 272 Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw 0 5

Duncan
October 02, 2014 5:05 PM

Duncan
Alumnus
House: Teppenpaw
Written by: Allegra Brockert

Age in Post: 13
Birthday: February 10

You seem to be okay with it. by Duncan
He somehow managed to smile when the older boy-Leo Princeton if he recalled correctly-said some reassuring words. "You do have a point." Duncan replied. It was just that his own fear was so disabling . Physically. He figured there were lots of people not willing to do this, who would get anxious and upset. It seemed like kind of a cruel lesson that way.

Most people seemed to fear similar things, losing friends or family one way or another. One fifth year boy was afraid of a mountain lion. Duncan felt that was a perfectly reasonable thing to be afraid of. Mountain lions were ferocious creatures with big sharp teeth that would tear someone limb from limb. He certainly would never want to run into one. The good news was that if he did, he'd probably die instantly, become a ghost-as had always been his plan-and get his limbs back, even if he did look gruesome like Uncle Freddy.

And Emrys Lucan seemed to be afraid of a clock. It was a strange fear but Duncan couldn't really judge him for it. It had to be a metaphor of some sort not a literal clock. Unless he'd at some point been attacked by an animated one or almost had one fall on him. More likely it represented a fear of the passage of time, getting old or not having enough time to do what you wanted. Maybe even the fear of becoming an adult and having more responsibilities.

He had to laugh at Serena's. A blonde girl, whom he recognized as Carrie O'Malley, one of the most hated students in the whole school. Duncan didn't know her, beyond the fact that she was the other Teppenpaw's first cousin-his distant one-that Serena unsurprisingly disliked her and that was apparently everyone's worst enemy. He wasn't laughing at his fellow third year so much-from what she'd said, Carrie was far worse than a mountain lion. It was more what she did to make her funny. Not that he laughed at that kind of thing normally. It was just that the seventh year was apparently a really horrible person. Besides, Tristan was laughing harder than he was.

Then it was Leo's turn, and Duncan was next. He was so nervous that he barely even noticed what the fourth year's boggart was. He seemed to handle it okay though. The third year doubted he'd be so lucky.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward. The boggart turned into a dark hooded man who pointed his wand at Duncan and said "Crucio" He'd managed to forget this part in his memory somehow, just remembering the pain. That had somehow blocked out everything else.

And here it came. Duncan winced, willing himself to not collapse on the floor. He tried to envision this guy in someway being funny, but it was starting to get worse. He had to defeat it before the pain got too bad. " Riddikulus" He said, trying to picture colorful foam shooting out of the wand instead. Duncan looked to see he'd only had moderate success. Still, he managed to chuckle a little, and moved back, knowing full well that was the best he could do.

“How did it go for you?”

The third year faced Leo. "Not as bad as I expected" He replied. His body was still aching but hopefully it would subside soon.

11 Duncan You seem to be okay with it. 271 Duncan 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte
October 03, 2014 8:18 AM

Francesca Wolseithcrafte
Alumnus
House: Aladren
Written by: Rhy

Age in Post: 15

Hmm, girly fear v weird fear... Not sure either's a winner by Francesca Wolseithcrafte
Francesca gave a half shrug, crossing her arms over her middle as Emrys told her she'd done alright. That was basically a lie and although well intended it really couldn't help her feel any better. It just put her mind back to what had happened, and the fact that she'd failed miserably at the assignment as well was just rubbing salt into the wound. She didn't really like Emrys speculating on her fear for much the same reason – it didn't help her forget what had just happened.

“Mmm,” she nodded, when he asked to share the story behind his. She felt a little bad for being so blunt about it as she most definitely didn't like him passing any kind of comment on hers. But... Had she known that it was so wacky that even he would be able to see a funny side? Probably not. That was probably retroactive justification when in reality she'd been spouting the first thing that came into her head to take her mind off her own horrible experience.

“That'd be good. Thanks,” she added, finding the lump in her throat had reduced significantly enough to allow for eloquence beyond single sounds.

“I guess...” she added, unconvinced by his idea that everyone having seen everyone's put them in the same boat. Sure, it was harder for them to use it to manipulate her knowing she could throw the same thing back at them but it didn't make it any easier to have had your soul bared in front of your classmates. Especially as hers was so personal. She felt it was easier to mock her or use hers against her than it was to unseat someone with their perfectly rational dislike of lethifolds or manticores. “What did you think I'd be afraid of, anyway?” she asked. Emrys said he's been surprised by her fear and, now that the initial sting of thinking about it was gone, she was curious to know what he'd though it would be. She wouldn't have been confident to guess the worst fear of anyone she didn't know very well.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte Hmm, girly fear v weird fear... Not sure either's a winner 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte 0 5