Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

‘Anything worrying you, Harry?’
    ‘No,’ Harry lied. He drank a bit of tea and watched the Grindylow brandishing a fist at him. ‘Yes,’ he said suddenly, putting his tea down on Lupin’s desk. ‘You know that day we fought the Boggart?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Lupin slowly.
    ‘Why didn’t you let me fight it?’ said Harry abruptly.
    Lupin raised his eyebrows.
    ‘I would have thought that was obvious, Harry,’ he said, sounding surprised.
    Harry, who had expected Lupin to deny that he’d done any such thing, was taken aback.
    ‘Why?’ he said again.
    ‘Well,’ said Lupin, frowning slightly, ‘I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.’
    Harry stared. Not only was this the last answer he’d expected, but Lupin had said Voldemort’s name. The only person Harry had ever heard say the name aloud (apart from himself) was Professor Dumbledore.
    ‘Clearly, I was wrong,’ said Lupin, still frowning at Harry. ‘But I didn’t think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialise in the staff room. I imagined that people would panic.’
    ‘I did think of Voldemort first,’ said Harry honestly. ‘But then I – I remembered those Dementors.’
    ‘I see,’ said Lupin thoughtfully. ‘Well, well … I’m impressed.’ He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry’s face. ‘That suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry.’
    Harry didn’t know what to say to that, so he drank some more tea.
    ‘So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?’ said Lupin shrewdly.
    ‘Well … yeah,’ said Harry. He was suddenly feeling a lot happier. ‘Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors –’
    He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
    ‘Come in,’ called Lupin.
    The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his black eyes narrowing.
    ‘Ah, Severus,’ said Lupin, smiling. ‘Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?’
    Snape set the smoking goblet down, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.
    ‘I was just showing Harry my Grindylow,’ said Lupin pleasantly, pointing at the tank.
    ‘Fascinating,’ said Snape, without looking at it. ‘You should drink that directly, Lupin.’
    ‘Yes, yes, I will,’ said Lupin.
    ‘I made an entire cauldronful,’ Snape continued. ‘If you need more.’
    ‘I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.’
    ‘Not at all,’ said Snape, but there was a look in his eye Harry didn’t like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.
    Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.
    ‘Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,’ he said. ‘I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex.’ He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. ‘Pity sugar makes it useless,’ he added, taking a sip and shuddering.
    ‘Why –?’ Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question.
    ‘I’ve been feeling a bit off-colour,’ he said. ‘This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it.’
    Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a mad urge to knock the goblet out of his hands.
    ‘Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts,’ he blurted out.
    ‘Really?’ said Lupin, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.
    ‘Some people reckon –’ Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, ‘some people reckon he’d do anything to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job.’
    Lupin drained the goblet and pulled a face.
    ‘Disgusting,’ he said. ‘Well, Harry, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you at the feast later.’
    ‘Right,’ said Harry, putting his empty teacup down.
    The empty goblet was still smoking.
    *
    ‘There you go,’ said Ron. ‘We got as much as we could carry.’
    A shower of brilliantly coloured sweets fell into Harry’s lap. It was dusk, and Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they’d had the time of their lives.
    ‘Thanks,’ said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. ‘What’s Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?’
    By the sound of it – everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment