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Debates about sorting:
Expanding upon pre-sorting thoughts.
WC: 1,075
Written: 06 August 2018
Who: Verine, Elmond, Callum, Scytharia (Sona's parents and maternal grandparents)
When: Directly after Sona gets her acceptance letter.
Tags: [Ghost canon] [Backstory]

(posted paragraph) As soon as her acceptance letter had come, her grandparents had come by Floo and amidst congratulations, began a debate as to which house Sonora would be in. Granda, a former Gryffindor, had decided that Sonora's love of stories and adventures made her a "natural Gryffindor"; Grandma had shut him down ruthlessly, deciding that Sonora's diligence and reflective nature made her a better candidate for her own Slytherin house. They'd argued on that the same had been said for Sonora's mother, who'd ended up a staunch Ravenclaw. She remarked with more smugness than she could hide that she was certain Sonora had picked up the "temperament of rigorous academic study and research". And finally her father piped up, reminding them that the patriarch of the Winchester line had been an excellent Hufflepuff and that she had retained his definitive hope for the future. Sonora had left the station at King's Cross that morning with four scarves thrown over her shoulders--one in each house's color-- and her father's amused assurance that no matter which House she was selected for, she would be a wonderful contribution and everyone would still love her.

-------------------------

“Ahh, there’s our new little Gryffindor!” Callum Winchester stepped through the fireplace and greeted his granddaughter.

“What?” his wife followed.

“Of course. Little Sonora is an adventurer! When we went on hikes, she was a fellow cursebreaker! She’s obviously a natural Gryffindor. Aren’t you, Sona?”

“Hi Granda,” Sonora greeted diplomatically. “Hi Grandma.”

“Good afternoon, darling.” Scythen O’Neill greeted with an affectionate hug. “Baloney,” she directed at her husband. “See her calm presence and consider how she has made a habit of reflection, even at her age. Clearly she has the makings of a Slytherin mastermind.”

“If she had any inclination to be a snake!” Callum brushed the comment away as he took the pastries and tea his son in law set out. “Besides, you said the same thing for Verine and she ended up being a bird.”

“Quite,” Verine chimed in. “Besides, if we’re talking about habits, I’m certain that Sonora takes after me that way. And I’ve been instilling her with the mind of a researcher.”

“The mind of a researcher and the decoration taste of a vulture! Verine, I’ve been telling you to get rid of these drapes for forever! The drapes take up the entire room,” Callum complained, gesturing the blue and bronze drapery. “You need to brighten up the place. Something bold. Something--”

“Green,” Scythen cut in. “Green and silver will go well with the walls too. And if I’m right, green is Sona’s favorite color, isn’t it?”

Sonora nodded her agreement with a silly grin. She knew her grandparents were just teasing, but it was fun.

“The drapes are staying Ravenclaw colors,” Verine insisted. “Because they’ll be Sonora’s house colors too. You said so yourself, Mam. Sonora’s a patient heart, and a diligent mind. She has the temperament for rigorous academic study and research.”

“And hopefully a temperament for simpler words,” Callum complained. “Besides, she uses that temper for the purpose of bringing happiness and justice to bear. That is a Gryffindor trait.”

“Oh would you shush it. Sonora doesn’t want to be associated with your reckless gaggle.”

“No more than she would want to be a scheming snake,” Verine shot back. “Sonora, what would you say you’re most excited about?”

“Flying!” Sonora replied immediately. “I’m excited about everything, but I’d really like to fly.”

“And we all know there’s only one house that soars,” Verine followed up immediately.

Scythen made a disgruntled sound. “Mascot traits are strictly not definitions of character. Slytherin House is proud of being resourceful and patient, traits that Sonora herself clearly values and aspires towards.”

“Justice and honor are also things she values,” Callum retorted, but he was waved off again.

Scythen directed the conversation to her son-in-law. At first she did not think much of this muggle her daughter had married but she had come around and even then she had to be impressed by his willingness to accept the wizarding world. “What about you Elmond? You should know enough about the Houses of Hogwarts to have an opinion on the matter.”

“I think Sonora would excel in any house,” Elmond said with an amused smile.

“Of course, but that’s not fun. Come! Defend a house-- which legacy will she continue?”

Elmond chuckled and shifted in his seat. “Funny you should mention legacy. If I’m correct, the patriarch of the Winchester line was a Hufflepuff, wasn’t he?” There were a few groans. “And I would say Sona adopts her great-grandfather’s positivity and staunch hope for the future. That gentle conviction is very much Hufflepuff.” He patted Sonora’s shoulder and she smiled. Hufflepuff did seem the safest option. They were constant, and she liked the stability of that.

“I still think she’ll be in Gryffindor,” Callum insisted after a pause. “Verine should have been a Slytherin, and Sonora should be Gryffindor.”

“Watch her be in Hufflepuff,” Scythen bit back. “Now if we had raised Verine out in the tombs and field with us instead of sending her to live the book life with Sir Eliam, Verine might be Slytherin. But that is neither here nor there.”

“If you’d not send me to live with Grandad I probably wouldn’t have lived to be accepted to Hogwarts,” Verine pointed out.

“Not truly!” Callum sniffed in mock-disappointment. “if Elmond can keep Sonora safe from the trails around here, we could have kept you safe from the creatures we dueled.”

“Hiking doesn’t involve dueling merpeople while escaping a collapsing mountain cave,” Verine replied with absolute seriousness.

-----------------------

Bah, everyone always thinks they're the expert, eh?
But no one knows better than I do
A sharp mind, a strong work ethic, curious nature
I think you'll be right at home in
Ravenclaw!


Reactions

• Verine is proud, a little smug, and only a little surprised, as she had secretly agreed that Hufflepuff would be agreeable to Sonora’s character.
  
• Elmond is just as supportive as he let on before, and as amused as he is excited.
  
• Callum is honestly let down and goes around ranting about the Sorting Hat being old for a while.
  
• Scythen makes a joke about how it must have been because Sonora told the hat she wanted to be a bird, but she was secretly convinced Ravenclaw or Slytherin would be good fits.
  
• Adda was thrilled, but surprised. I fully expected her to be in Hufflepuff.

Imperio
A random thought about the Imperious Curse.
WC: 2,389
Written: 17 August 2018
Who: Jonah
When: Fifth or sixth year.
Notes: Would really rather this one doesn't happen? There's too much implied drama and long-term plot requirements about this. The idea of committing wizarding terrorism by forcing people to do things completely out of character would be an interesting thought experiment--what would it entail? Also, this was super weird writing from a character perspective not my own, especially someone much more charismatic. Jonah totally would have found a plan that didn't amount to fluff romantic fluff.

Muggle born wizard who is pro-muggle rights and enacts wizarding terrorism.

The first step would be hardest, the most careful, and the most personal.

————
One moment Sonora was helping a Gryffindor fourth year with DADA homework. He looked up, their eyes met, and the next moment Sonora felt cold wash over her skin and her thoughts swimming sluggishly. What was going on?

She realized his wand was out, the tip almost touching her chest. His eyes were hazel, and for a moment she felt herself sucked in by the light green specks—no. She resisted the light-headed compulsion, realizing the word he’d said and trying to focus on something—anything but the foreign emptiness. Immediately she reached for her wand. Not fast enough.

“Imperio.”

The second time, she heard the word clearly, but it only served to highlight the power behind the curse. No, no, no—but Sonora could feel her mind slipping, and all her knowledge of occlumency only served to inform her that her mind was being invaded. She could feel the imperious curse worming its way into her mind— a pleasant, dulling fog impossible to resist.

In the last moment, she felt a pang in her heart, like someone had torn it open and flooded it with the smoke from dry ice. Her last conscious thoughts were her friends, her parents, and Jonah. Then a light, pleasant feeling took over, and her mind felt like it was floating. She could sense the person in front of her, and it made her happy to be with them and do their bidding.

Go find the one you love, and kill them. Fantastically. A push off a tower should do the trick. Just kill them.

Of course. Kill Jonah. It would be her pleasure.
———

“Hey.”

Sonora was waiting for him in the owlery, but neither Skyfire nor his own Circe was anywhere to seen. Jonah smiled when he saw her.

“Hey.” She pushed away from the wall with a little wave. “Thanks for meeting me. I just wanted to have a few moments to ourselves, you know?”

“I always have time for you,” he replied easily, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You were tutoring Quark earlier, right? How’d it go?”

“Well. He’s really bright, he just needed someone to talk things through,” she replied, as they wandered outside together. She climbed onto the wall and patting the space next to her for him. “Come up, sit with me.”

“Careful,” he cautioned, “It’s icy up here.” He glanced over the edge, wary at the drop.

“It’ll be okay,” she replied carelessly.

He looked back up from the drop, a little worried. His girlfriend wasn’t usually this reckless. If anything, he was the reckless one. “Is something—“

In an instant, she had her wand pointed at him, but she was staring with dead eyes at the space between them, the few inches between the wall she was perched on and him. “Sona—“

“I-I’m sorry.” The words were choked out of her, like someone was holding her by the neck. Suddenly she snapped her eyes up. He saw a flash of clarity in her eyes and a foreboding feeling in his gut.

“Sona, no—!“

“Reducto!”

The blast from the jinx hit him a lot harder than he expected and he crashed into the wall behind him, the space between them blowing the wall into rubble. There was barely any kickback to it, but for a girl sitting on a slippery wall—his hand in hers had been the most of what was stabilizing her. That, and said wall was now partially rubble crashing for the ground with her.

“SONA!” Jonah rushed for the remains of the wall again, wand out and ready. There wasn’t time to figure out what had transpired to lead them to this point. He’d ask her himself—after he saved her. “Accio Windshear!” he commanded with determination, then vaulted off the edge.

--------------------

This was flying. This was actually flying. No brooms, no spells, just pure flight—interrupted rudely by a piece of stone slamming into her arm. She barely managed to hold onto her wand as it cut a deep gash into her arm. Her arm felt a jolt, but the pain was muffled. There was a faint happy feeling mixed in with the falling sensation, happy to have accomplished her goal—at least, it should have worked? Blowing up the walkway would have sent them both spiraling to the ground. Dying herself—that would just be part of the happiness.

So half of her was very surprised when a broom bolted through the air around her, catching the boy falling above her mid flight. Jonah reached out and rolled onto the broom in one elegant motion, redirecting the broom’s direction of flight in a smooth motion and speeding towards her. She felt a dulled rush of affection—he made even simple movements look beautiful.

Jonah was speeding towards her now, the Windshear earning its name as it split the air in speed. He guided the broom in one hand, pointing his hand out with the other. She felt a stunning jinx hit her chest, slipping just by the shield spell she’d cast to redirect it. The numbing seemed to make even the happy mist in her mind stop in place. He cast another spell on the rocks around them, and they froze midair for a moment before falling the rest of the way to the ground harmlessly. That would be her in a second, though less harmlessly, she realized. Then Jonah caught her, wrapping his arm around her waist and throwing her body across the Windshear as he brought the broom out of its nosedive. A few spectators nearby cheered at the heroic resolution to what might have been a tragic fall.

Sonora stared up at him blankly. She couldn’t really feel the stunning curse, but she knew it still affected her body and that she had failed. But they were still in the air, and if she could crash them— she reached up, but Jonah read her intentions faster and another stunning spell hit her. This time, the shock hit her too fast and hard and conscious thought subsided.

------------------

Another tower hardly seemed like the best place to be after his experience in the owlery. But Jonah knew no better shelter than Ravenclaw Tower, and he wanted somewhere private to talk to Sonora when she woke up. He glanced over at his girlfriend—his beloved, suddenly suicidal girlfriend— who was still peacefully knocked out on his bed. He worried his second stunning curse might have been a little more powerful than was needed at point-blank.

Initially, Jonah had considered going to Professor Whitethorne for veritaserum, but scrapped the idea. He didn’t know what kind of excuse he’d need to get that potion from her, and Sonora knew some occlumency. The complications weren’t worth the risk of it failing. Instead, after stopping the flow of blood from the gash on her arm, he settled for some chocolate from the Ravenclaw Common Room stash, asking Iggy to grab it for him to avoid leaving Sonora unattended. But once he had chocolate and privacy and Sonora still hadn’t woken up, he was forced to face his understanding of the situation, and the unsettling truth that came with it:

Sonora had tried to kill them. Both of them, it seemed. Just herself? No, the grab at his neck as he flew them to safety had been fairly telling. He was the one that was supposed to fall to his death today. But what was her motivation? He couldn’t believe she would hate him for anything—rather, he knew she loved him as much as he did her. No.The question was, how would he get her to tell him what was going on when she woke up? He’d taken her wand, but was wary that Sonora knew some wandless magic.

A light groan directed his attention back to the bed. Jonah rushed to her side, concern overtaking his suspicions and confusion. “Episkey,” he murmured for the headache after being stunned. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He was surprised at how lucid she sounded. She moved to sit up and he gestured the chocolate and water waiting for her her on the side table. Sonora lifted her head listlessly, serene emptiness clouding her movements. She realized she didn’t have her wand available and thrust her hand out. Jonah felt the light brush of what would have been a knockback jinx on his shield as he dodged away.

“Sona, please—“

But he knew better than to reason with her after the last episode. “Stupefy!”

With remarkable speed, she dove towards him, her face pulled back in a feral snarl and her arms reached for his neck. He rolled to the side, barely avoiding her and aimed another stunning spell. She stumbled to her feet, her movements jerky and unnatural. Their eyes met.

She was struggling to say something, and her body was twitching, as though it couldn’t decide which way to move. Her lips trembled but only nonsensical sounds came out.

Jonah felt something in his heart break—Sonora looked lost yet serene, in a way that was not her usual, focused serenity. He did the only thing he could and raised his wand again. She jerked away, falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” This time there was no dodging the stunning spell, and the force threw her limp body mercilessly across the dormitory.

He felt the p***k of a tear burn his eyes, but it turned to anger. That wasn’t her. Whoever that was, it wasn’t Sona.

———————

Everything felt a little vague and fuzzy, like she was in a dream. If it was a dream, it was a remarkably strange one too— her character had been trying kill Jonah. Dream-Sonora seemed to think the warm, happy feelings would be even happier if she killed him. She hardly believed that putting out the brightest, warmest person in her life would help with that. Dream logic? She would have to read more on divination to figure it out.

Kill him.

“Hey, you okay?”

Kill him. Kill him.

What? A little voice beyond the dream-fog piped up. Why would she do that? “Y-yeah. Thanks.”

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

No, she really wasn’t okay if she was having these traitorous thoughts. But her body stared up at him, and the chanting began in her head again. Killing—a killing curse? There were other ways to kill though. She felt her body lunge forward.

KILL HIM!

NO! She could see the confusion and fear in Jonah’s expression now—and now, the little voice beyond the fringes of the happy emptiness was upset. I am not going to kill the love of my life. I don’t think so.

She saw him raise his wand distantly and she felt her body move.

KILL HIM NOW!

Her body flinched, her hand reaching forward to throw a wandless curse at him and simultaneously jerking backwards. Then her body was wracked by sudden impact, and she was gone again.

——————

He had to have a plan. He remembered the torment in her face and could only imagine that someone was forcing her, making her act so violently. There was a haunting thought in the back of his head—the imperious curse. If that were true, there was nothing he could do besides find and end the source of the spell. But anyone willing to cast an unforgivable on the campus grounds was not going to just roll over.

Jonah was still running ideas over in his head when Sona stirred again. He just watched her, wand at the ready and hope in his heart. His free hand took hers in silent desperation. Please, fight it. He imagined the thought as a powerful light guiding her back to herself. Please, come back to me.

————-------

She was awake again. Her head throbbed, but was also blissfully empty. It wasn’t like the serenity she gained from mentally organizing her life every morning or evening. Instead of the neat mental piles, everything was just clean and empty.

Then a voice echoed through her head. Kill him.

Who? She looked around and recognized a person sitting by her side, his hand gripping hers tightly. Kill him. Her free hand went to her side, where she expected her wand, before a thought questioned what was happening--that was Jonah. Why would I hurt him?

“Sonora…please…” She could feel the little breath he took. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

And she loved him. In that instant, his broken voice pleading in her ears, his expression hopeful before her eyes, and his hand around hers, she had no doubt and no other thought. She loved him, and that was all she needed to know.

The murderous command continued chanting in her head, more urgently now, but Sonora focused on that single point of understanding. She clutched his hand with both of hers, clinging to it as an anchor point to prevent her body from lashing out.

KILL—No. Not going to happen. Never.

Suddenly the emptiness in her head was gone, and everything crashed down on her at once. The serene emptiness vanished, and in rushed memories of the last day, hitting her mind like a meteor. Sonora curled into a ball as the memories and stunning spells caught up to her.

“Sona?”

She made a groan in response. There nothing but head-splitting pain for another moment.

“Episkey.” The numbness alleviated somewhat, and after a few moments, the pain dissipated, like stone crumbling slowly to dust and leaving behind a fragile but intact space. Soon, Sonora could feel herself again.

“Jonah.” She looked up in panic. He seemed confused, and his brows were creased with worry, but he looked unhurt. Alive. She threw her arms around him with relief.

He flinched from the sudden movement but then wrapped his arms around her as well. His fingers stroked her hair and back gently, comfortingly. “I’m glad you’re back,” he murmured, relief easing the tension in his own body.

“Thank you,” she sobbed over his shoulder. “Thank you—for bringing me back. F-For not getting hurt. For saving me. For being here. For being you—”
“You’re okay,” he reassured. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You broke the curse. That’s what matters.”

She pulled back to arms length, her eyes filled with newfound fury. “It was Quark,” she seethed. “He put the Imperious Curse on me.”

Jonah offered her wand back to her. “Then we better do something about him.”

Boggarts
Sona tries to prepare to face a boggart
WC: 2,449
Written: 26 September 2018
Who: Jonah, Vespera, Professor Fanchon Cohen
When: Third year, Boggart Day in DADA.
Tags: [boggarts]
Notes:: Because Nightmares messed me up and I needed to cope.

Something was wrong. Sonora reached forward, lightly touching the back of his robes as Jonah cast the spell again and again at the boggart. But instead of bursting into confetti or something silly, it just kept changing the face of the person in pain. She flinched when it showed them Rion and looked away when it showed them Rhea. Why wasn’t it working?

“Jonah? Jonah, it’s just a boggart, they’re all okay,” she said softly, not wanting to distract him but also recognizing something was going terribly wrong with every spell cast.

He’d stopped, frozen. She looked back, startled it was her own body there. It didn’t matter. “Jonah, we’re okay,” she said, pulling his sleeve urgently. “It’s okay, I’m okay, it’s not real--”

He shut his eyes and she moved in front of him, trying to get him to focus on anything--anything besides that sadistic creature, maybe get it to take on someone else’s fear--and then he screamed in frustration, throwing his wand across the room.

Sonora grabbed it as it clattered to the ground and ran across the classroom without a glance at the rest of the class. She sank down next to him and threw her arms around her best friend.

“I’m sorry, I just…” He sniffed and she squeezed him a little. “I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t...I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m okay,” she murmured softly, her voice surprisingly even as she tried to comfort him. “You won’t. It’s okay.” She closed her eyes and focused on his sobs and breathing.It’s not real. Please feel better. Smile. Please…”

------

She pulled Jonah away from the classroom and outside to the sunny campus--but away from the Forbidden Forest. The pain he’d seen on the boggarts--she remembered the flash of red light that night in the forest with the werewolf and the howl of pain from the werewolf as they made their escape. It made sense that the Cruciatus Curse had a terrible resonance with him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

-----

Sonora stayed downstairs that night with the excuse that she had work to catch up on, but her books laid closed on the desk as she just stared out the window at the Forbidden Forest. If he wandered into the common room unable to sleep, she was not going to let him face it alone. She’d never seen Jonah cry. He was always brave, had a smile and something sweet to say for everything. She remembered how he held her hand under the table their first week of school in Herbology when she panicked over Professor Hill locking the doors. Fear? No, that was anxiety. His presence had made Herbology bearable that first half of the year. She remembered how he’d pulled her out of harm’s way that summer, throwing a knockback jinx against the werewolf while she fumbled uselessly for her wand. That had been fear. Paralyzing fear. And he’d been the one to save her and Rion. He was the bravest, the sweetest, the kindest--and he was afraid of her being hurt?

She crumpled her robes in her fist, frustrated. Jonah wouldn’t have to be scared if she had been able to protect them that night. If she’d been able to do more than whimper at the wolf. If that wolf hadn’t appeared to begin with. No, these were the wrong ways of thinking. She just had to get stronger from here. The boggart had given her a clear goal: Jonah was never going to cry because she couldn’t protect herself. And he was never, ever going to have to make that face again.

Professor Cohen was generous enough to let her come in after Alchemy the next morning to try her hand at the boggart. She was going to figure it out, she was going to beat it, and if they ever met a boggart, she wasn’t even going to give it the chance to focus on Jonah’s fears. With a deep breath, she opened her journal, fetched a self-inking quill and started figuring out her own worst fears. This morning she thought the boggart would have turned into a werewolf or the cave from her dad’s stories--the one she’d supposedly gotten trapped in as a little girl. Maybe both. Countering the werewolf was easy--Rion was too silly to really be scary no matter what form he took, and just the memory of him chowing down on a raw steak to Rhea and August’s mutual disgust was enough to bring a giggle to her face. Sona jotted down the thought underneath the proposed fear. Cave--well, she’d gotten out of the cave once. Someone would save her again. Maybe it’d be her mom--no, It would be Alex, who was also scared of those spaces. He would wave the rock aside and tell her it was all a prank. He’d laugh, and she’d laugh. There. Another fear she could beat.

Shattering her arms and hands again? Vespera intentionally playing the violin terribly, Alex intentionally playing the piano terribly, and Rhea intentionally singing off-key the last time she’d actually hurt herself had Sona laughing aloud in the empty common room. Drowning? She could swim. Public humiliation or shaming? Meylian always said most people had a short attention span. “Imagine the memes, not the criticism,” he’d shrug. A fire burning her home down? Nothing that couldn’t be replaced. A major annoyance at most.

Her parents fighting. Leaving each other, and her father dying or just vanishing out of her life. She forced herself to imagine it, reminding herself that the boggart would be realistic. What was something happy she could make about that?

She moved on. She’d find a solution if she just kept going. Dueling club had been a constant stream of getting knocked aside because she was too slow. But she’d solved that preparing a slew of spells and practicing until unleashing that combination in rapid succession was effortless. When she had gotten predictable, she simply came up with multiple sets of them and remix between sets. Simple strategy. What if she never found a solution? What if her worst fear was just not having a plan for something? Sonora almost rolled her eyes as she glanced over at the stairs to the boys dorm. She’d just improvise, of course, Jonah and Vespera did it all the time and made a hilarious adventure out of all the situations they got in. She’d get out of it. And if she didn’t, she knew they would save her. And when they did, they’d be pleased as peacocks, snickering like mockingbirds.

What if her worst fear was her friends or family dying? Her parents dying? She remembered Jonah’s boggart that afternoon, and how it had cycled through his family. That won’t happen, she realized after a while. His worst fear was us being hurt. But he’d never let that happen to us. She took a deep breath and imagined Jonah’s laugh, his smile, his mischievous grin when he and Ves had something schemed--or the frustrated groan he’d make when Ves thwarted one of his schemes. The silly zombie face he had--that both of them had-- before their morning coffee. There was no way Vespera Salazar and Jonah Lane were dying without having pulled off the grandest prank in the world. Blowing the entire castle into quills and snowballs and capturing every person’s reaction in a series of photos? Sounded feasible for them. Whatever it was, it would be such a fantastic prank that even Alex wouldn’t stop guffawing throughout the funeral.

Funerals. She’d asked her mother once, and mum had told her that her worst fear were tombs. As a child, mum feared thought her parents would rather track down ghosts and murderers than spend time with her. Her worst fear was her husband leaving her and the way her grandmother’s death had turned the estate into silent halls. Dad had said he hated cemeteries, for a similar reason--he’d seen a lot of death, and didn’t want to see any more. Sona shook her head and wrote down her mother’s solution: “I’d throw a party in the tomb, deck the walls with colorful drapes, smash pies into the coffins, and drink cocktails with ghosts and paintings until dawn.”

The festive memory also reminded her of how bright Ms. Chance was after the divorce. If her parents did leave each other, it would be because it would make them both happier and because they had talked everything through. Sona imagined her dad making bilingual tree puns and her mother growing every kind of strange magical plant in the backyard of great-granda’s estate. When the thought of her mother lecturing a flower made her giggle, Sona knew she had something that would work.

When the sun peeked over the horizon, Sonora reviewed her list, making sure she had a funny memory or thought associated with every possible fear. She’d spent the night memorizing the entire thing, and reviewed relaxation and cognitive thinking techniques to help her get over the initial panic. Whatever that boggart turned into, she would be prepared. After a shower and breakfast, she left Jonah a thermos of coffee and a cheerful note saying she’d see him in Transfiguration. At least, it seemed he had slept through the night. Stifling her own yawn, she headed to her morning class.

------

Darkness. Streaks of darkness flew out of the wardrobe, enveloping her suddenly. Before she could react, Sonora was surrounded on every side by darkness. She thought she glimpsed trees and mist, but there really nothing but a steady drip of water somewhere.

There were no rushing thoughts, no panic, no shortness of breath. She was almost disappointed as she raised her wand. “Lumos.”

Nothing happened--maybe it wasn’t that the spell didn’t work, but the darkness was impenetrable. “It’s too late,” a voice cut her off. She glanced around, confusion stepping over her instinct to just cast the riddikulus spell and get on with it. “You’re too slow. You’re always too slow though, so you should have expected this,” the voice said. It was her own voice, cruel and cheerful, like it was mocking her.

“What do you mean?” She was talking to the boggart now. Bad idea. But she had to know what her fear was in order to choose something to combat it, right? “Lumos Maxima!” Nothing. The spell was eaten up in the darkness--or else it didn’t actually work.

“Everything. Everyone. They’re gone already.” The voice was giggling--could boggarts giggle? Wasn’t that what defeated them?

“Everyone? M-my friends? Mum? Dad? Mey--?”

“Everyone. They left. They were never really your friends.” A dramatic sigh. “No one actually likes you. You’re always happy. It’s not real. It’s creepy.” Drip. Drip.

“No.” Creepy was Halloween last year when Ves--

“Real girls are tragic. They break, they cry, they struggle, they fail.”

“That’s a lie!” She was spinning around, trying to find the ignorant voice she was arguing with. “That’s a lie, and it flies in the face of everything everyone struggles with!”

Her own laugh came back at her, shrill and grating. Sonora covered her ears with a cringe but the voice was just as clear and lilting. “You’re a lie. You smile, you ponder. You say innocent, sweet things, but you’re a dark, despicable girl--”

“I’m. Not. Listening to you! I have friends, they’re real, and J--”

“They’re not here, are they? Have you heard anyone but yourself here?”

“You’re a stupid boggart!” Sona was shrieking now, even if she didn’t know it. She took a breath and imagined the darkness shattering into a thousand feathers and snow--

“Cast it then. It’s a very simple spell, isn’t it?”

“Riddikulus!”

Nothing happened. She imagined laughter and telling jokes by the fire and the funny comics Ei--

“It’s not the laughter, silly thing. God knows you’re so optimistic it’s cloying. It’s your magic. None of your spells have been working, have they?”

“Riddikulus!” Nothing. “No, this is just a boggart, this can’t be real-- Riddikulus!”

The darkness slipped away, whirling into tendrils of ash and dirt and sand. She was in a cloud and debris and dirt-- “Riddikulus!” The entire thing turned to confetti, and Sonora was back in Professor Cohen’s office. She was kneeling on the floor of the office, fist so tight around her wand that the professor had to smooth open her hand before she broke it.

Suddenly a plate of brownies and cup of tea pushed themselves into view. “Eat. Drink.” She did so obediently, sipping on the warm drink. She hugged her knees towards her.

“Darkness. Yourself. Losing your magic.”

“Wingardium Leviosa.” Sonora directed the spell at the brownie on the plate. It worked flawlessly as she levitated the chocolate snack in a circle. Up, down, over into her hand. She nibbled on it, counting her breaths until she was no longer trembling. “Professor Cohen?”

“Hm?”

“Am I a terrible person? Jonah--his boggart was his family, friends...me...hurt. Dead. It means he cares about us, so much and so deeply, that he couldn’t stand to see us suffering. That’s beautiful in a terrible way. But mine...mine was just me. It’s so selfish.”

The professor asked her a question as a reply: “Did you notice it never spoke about your friends by name?”

Sona closed her eyes and forced herself to replay the conversation with the boggart. It hadn’t, had it? “Right.”

“And every time you tried saying theirs?”

“...It cut me off.”

“That’s right. Think on why the boggart wouldn’t want even their names coming up in its illusion.”

She thought on it quietly before the sound of scuffling outside caught their attention.”You should probably hurry along now.”

“Can I try it again?”

Professor Cohen shook her head, holding a hand up. “Maybe over the weekend. You didn’t get much sleep, did you?” A mild chuckle escaped the older woman. “Get some rest and let the experience sit with you for awhile. Hang out with your friends. Think about why the boggart didn’t want you speaking their names. You can both try again when I’m more convinced you’re settled and rested.

There was no protest to that. Sonora gathered her bag and wand, thanked Professor Cohen for the advice and snacks, and headed out.

She’d barely gotten down the hall when she spotted her two favorite people in the hall. Vespera was pulling Jonah’s hair with an insistent “She’ll be alright!” and a half dozen quills were harassing him with none-too-gentle pokes. A wide smile spread across her face as she ran towards them. Of course--even the boggart knew that just the mention of her friends would vanquish it immediately--they were the source of her positivity.