The Legend of the Boggart

Note: This memory was found in an old vial left to the Department of Mysteries by Archibald Horatio Banks (?-2415?). He claimed in a letter found near it that it contained the truth of the mythical boggart, that this memory had been a keepsake in his family for generations. The Unspeakables of the time did nothing but place the vial on a shelf and forget about it. The memory is old; experts estimate it took place roughly 600-700 years ago. The names of the individuals in the memory have yet to be discovered, but as far as we can tell, the memory is completely authentic. The finding of this memory and its possible importance is what prompted the creation of the Memory Bank in the Department of Mysteries.

The young man shivered in the darkness. It wasn’t cold, but he shivered anyway. He was still awake, even though it was late at night. He rubbed his forehead distractedly, revealing a scar shaped like a lightening bolt. He stared out the window a bit and then stood.

He seemed unsure for a moment and then he strode to the door and left the small bedroom. He walked through the hall, barely making a sound, and down the stairs to a well lit kitchen. Two people occupied the kitchen already, sipping a hot drink, and they looked up to see him. The woman smiled, and the man stood immediately and got a third cup, filling it with hot chocolate.

“Couldn’t sleep?” the woman said. She had spiky purple hair and was fiddling with a ring on her left hand.

The young man shook his head.

“Molly found another boggart in the attic today,” the man said, sitting down again and handing their newest companion his cup.

“What did it turn in to?” the younger man asked softly.

“The same as always, everyone dead,” the woman said nonchalantly.

“Too bad Ron didn’t find it,” the young man responded, “he’s well over his fear of spiders, after his experience three months ago, and so he’s been wondering what his boggart might turn into now.” He seemed to shake himself out of some memory that had latched on, and then he glanced at the older man, “Has it been taken care of?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll do it then,” he put his barely touched cup down and stood.

“Are you sure?” the other man said with a furrowed brow.

He shrugged, “I can use the practice.”

The woman nodded and told him, “It’s in the old bureau, middle drawer on the left.”

He smiled and walked out of the kitchen and up all the flights of stairs to the attic. Opening the creaking door he held his wand in front of him.

He flicked his wand at the bureau without speaking and one of the drawers popped out.

A dark looming figure rose out of it and sucked in a rattling breath.

The young man cocked his head and regarded the visage thoughtfully. Immediately it changed shape and became a bald, sinister looking man with red eyes and slits rather than a nose. The young man just stared.

It changed again, this time it was on the floor, the dead body of a beautiful red haired young woman. Still he stared.

Again and again it shifted its form, becoming more gruesome and terrifying each time. The young man didn’t react to any of them.

Then the boggart stopped, becoming a shadowy cloud of darkness. And the young man finally spoke, “I fear none of these things. What then is my greatest fear?”

The cloud pulsed for a moment and then, it suddenly burst. The darkness faded, leaving behind a shimmering being. And then it spoke, “Bless you child, bless you!” exultant joy could be heard in the voice, “You have no fears, you are long past them and they do not hurt you as they once did. Bless you! You have freed us. You have freed us!”

The shimmering being reached out and touched the young man briefly and then disappeared.

Note: There has not been a single boggart sighting, anywhere in the world, since the year 1996.