The Grandson of Grindelwald (On Hold)

M3, Chapter 6

Hogwarts - Bridge

(Deep in the distance, some boys skate about on brooms, tossing a ragged quaffle back and forth. Harry and Lupin are walking along the bridge)

Lupin: Well, don't feel too bad. I was roundly disappointed the first time I went.

Harry: Really?

Lupin: No. I was just trying to make you feel better. Honeydukes' sweets are the best in the world. Their Pepper Imps are so strong you smoke at the ears. And Zonko's Joke Shop may be dangerous, but you can't beat their Stink Pellets.

(Harry nods glumly)

Harry: Not to mention The Shrieking Shack, which, according to Hermione, is the most severely haunted building in Britain.

Lupin: Yes, that too...

Harry: Professor, can I ask you something?

Lupin: You'd like to know why I stopped you from facing the Boggart. I should think it'd be obvious. I assumed the Boggart would take the shape of Lord Voldemort.

(Harry frowns. Lupin studies him curiously)

Lupin: But clearly... I was wrong.

Harry: I did think of Voldemort first. But then, I remembered that night on the train... and the Dementors...

Lupin: Well, well. I'm impressed. That suggests that what you fear most of all is... fear. Very wise.

Harry: Before I fainted... I heard something. A woman. Screaming.

Lupin: Dementors force us to relive the worst memories of our lives. Our pain becomes their power.

Harry: I think it was my mother. The night she was murdered.

(Harry looks up. Finds Lupin studying him)

Lupin: The first time I saw you, Harry, I recognized you immediately. Not by your scar. By your eyes. They're your mother Lily's. Yes. I knew her. She was there for me at a time when no one else was. We used to talk for hours. She was not only a singularly gifted witch but an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing the beauty in whoever she met, even -- and perhaps most especially -- when that person couldn't see it in themselves...

(Lupin's eyes glaze in memory, then he blinks, smiles)

Lupin: Which perhaps explains her affection for your father. James had, shall we say, a certain talent for trouble. A gift, rumor has it, he passed on to you.

(Lupin turns, eyes Harry affectionately. Harry smiles vaguely)

Lupin: I could tell you stories -- and there are many about your parents, Harry -- but know this...

(Lupin eyes Harry intensely)

Lupin: They lived. Every moment of every day. You should know that. That's how they'd want to be remembered.

Great Hall

(The Hall buzzes with tales of Hogsmeade, as students swap stories, sample sweets, and send soap bubbles of all shapes, sizes and colors into the air. A marionetter of a harlequin cavorts atop the Gryffindor table, moving its limbs in response to the strands of light that extend from Neville's fingertips. Seamus passes his hand through the light beams and -- FLUMPH! -- the Harlequin collapses)

Hermione: And the post office! It's about 200 owls, all sitting on color coded shelves, depending on how fast you want your letter to go!

Ron: And Honeyduke's is brilliant! Sugar Quills, Flaming Whizbees!