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FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian

Fanchon stood in the back of the classroom, beside a large wardrobe, which was rattling rather ominously. She motion for the students sitting down to turn around to face her, before beginning her lecture. "A boggart," she said calmly, "Is what is currently banging around in this wardrobe. Boggarts are amortal non-beings, which means that they were never alive, and thus can never die. They are shapeshifters who survive off of fear, which means that as soon as I release this boggart, it will focus on whoever is nearest and assume the form of their worst fear, whatever that may be. However, our strength lies in numbers. The more people present, the more confused and indecisive the boggart will become, trying to decide which fear to take the shape of. No one has ever seen what a boggart looks like when it is alone, for obvious reasons."

She rapped on the wardrobe lightly, which shook in response. "Boggarts like enclosed, dark spaces, such as wardrobes, closets, under beds, but they can also lurk in dark corners or forests. Much like poltergeists and Dementors, boggarts exist because of the combination of our magic and our very human emotions. As long as there is fear in the world, there will be boggarts. Muggles do not typically see or encounter boggarts, and when they do, usually write them off as hallucinations. Now, I don't want this lesson to teach you to be ashamed of your fears. Every human fears something. Fear is important. It's what keeps us alive. The purpose of defeating a boggart, however, is to learn how to triumph over your fear."

Fanchon abruptly pulled open the door, and a dark shape slithered out, before springing up in the air like an ashen, whirling cloud, transforming into suffocating dirt, which surrounded the woman. There was silence for a moment, then "Ri-di-KULL-lis!", a whip-like crack, and the dirt turned into harmless confetti, drifting to the floor while the Haitian chuckled, before retreating back into the wardrobe. She slammed the door shut quickly. "I have feared being buried alive ever since I was a little girl, when an earthquake killed my parents," she informed the class mildly. "However, you just saw me face my fear and force the boggart back into its hiding space. I cast the Boggart-Banishing Spell, Riddikulus. It forces the boggart to take the shape of something humorous. But the spell alone didn't defeat the boggart. My laughter did. You have to be able to genuinely laugh to fend off a boggart."

"If you cannot acknowledge your fears, you stand no chance of fighting the boggart. You have to take them as they are, and visualize them as something not frightening, but humorous, in your minds. The movement is this:,"



She looked over the class once more. "I think it's important that all you have a go at it. Obviously, I cannot force you, and I understand that some fears are much more... realistic... than others. I can't speak to what any of you may have gone through in your lives. But I do think it's crucial that we acknowledge those things, rather than letting them fester. If anyone is not comfortable with their classmates seeing their fears, speak to me after class, and we'll make arrangements." Fanchon glanced over at the wardrobe. "Alright. Who's first?"

FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian

Fanchon sat in her very comfortable chair, stroking Jacques, her cat, curled up in her lap, as though she were a Bond villain, and gave the room one final once over. She had enough tables and chairs to fit everyone, she'd made sure the room was spotless, in case anyone had any dust allergies, and she'd tried to make it.... if not quite welcoming, at least slightly less intimidating, although that was a bit difficult when the decor of the room literally included a giant skeleton of some magical beast suspended above the class. Ah well. They'd have to get used to Hogwarts's quirks at some point, and DADA was a notoriously challenging class, although not quite to the level of say, Transfiguration or Potions. However, it was extremely important, and if she had her way, she'd make it mandatory for all seven years. Alas, she could not have her way, so she only had five years to drill as much knowledge as possible through their hairy little heads. If she could make sure all of them could cast a proper shield charm, patronus, disarm someone, and defeat a boggart, she'd be happy. It would raise their life expectancy significantly.

As the third years filtered into the room, she observed them stoically, not rising from her seat (and disturbing Jacques' nap) until everyone had taken their seats and were (mostly) quiet. "Bonjou. Good morning," she translated calmly, confident that her accent, while strong, was not an excuse for them to not listen. "My rules are written on the board. Follow them, don't follow them, it's your choice. This class is largely about choices. I'm here to demonstrate to you how to make good ones." She scanned the class for a moment. "Well, you are third years now, so I expect to be impressed. My wand is here," she raised her hand. "First person to disarm me will earn their house ten points."

FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian

Fanchon stood in the back of the classroom, beside a large wardrobe, which was rattling rather ominously. She motion for the students sitting down to turn around to face her, before beginning her lecture. "A boggart," she said calmly, "Is what is currently banging around in this wardrobe. Boggarts are amortal non-beings, which means that they were never alive, and thus can never die. They are shapeshifters who survive off of fear, which means that as soon as I release this boggart, it will focus on whoever is nearest and assume the form of their worst fear, whatever that may be. However, our strength lies in numbers. The more people present, the more confused and indecisive the boggart will become, trying to decide which fear to take the shape of. No one has ever seen what a boggart looks like when it is alone, for obvious reasons."

She rapped on the wardrobe lightly, which shook in response. "Boggarts like enclosed, dark spaces, such as wardrobes, closets, under beds, but they can also lurk in dark corners or forests. Much like poltergeists and Dementors, boggarts exist because of the combination of our magic and our very human emotions. As long as there is fear in the world, there will be boggarts. Muggles do not typically see or encounter boggarts, and when they do, usually write them off as hallucinations. Now, I don't want this lesson to teach you to be ashamed of your fears. Every human fears something. Fear is important. It's what keeps us alive. The purpose of defeating a boggart, however, is to learn how to triumph over your fear."

Fanchon abruptly pulled open the door, and a dark shape slithered out, before springing up in the air like an ashen, whirling cloud, transforming into suffocating dirt, which surrounded the woman. There was silence for a moment, then "Ri-di-KULL-lis!", a whip-like crack, and the dirt turned into harmless confetti, drifting to the floor while the Haitian chuckled, before retreating back into the wardrobe. She slammed the door shut quickly. "I have feared being buried alive ever since I was a little girl, when an earthquake killed my parents," she informed the class mildly. "However, you just saw me face my fear and force the boggart back into its hiding space. I cast the Boggart-Banishing Spell, Riddikulus. It forces the boggart to take the shape of something humorous. But the spell alone didn't defeat the boggart. My laughter did. You have to be able to genuinely laugh to fend off a boggart."

"If you cannot acknowledge your fears, you stand no chance of fighting the boggart. You have to take them as they are, and visualize them as something not frightening, but humorous, in your minds. The movement is this:,"



She looked over the class once more. "I think it's important that all you have a go at it. Obviously, I cannot force you, and I understand that some fears are much more... realistic... than others. I can't speak to what any of you may have gone through in your lives. But I do think it's crucial that we acknowledge those things, rather than letting them fester. If anyone is not comfortable with their classmates seeing their fears, speak to me after class, and we'll make arrangements." Fanchon glanced over at the wardrobe. "Alright. Who's first?"

▬▬"An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day." ▬▬

Vespera slid into DADA, and sat in the back row. It was the first class of the day, and it was her least favorite one. In previous years she had disliked the class because of it's content. However, since the incident of throwing things at Jonah, she had come to dread the existence of being in the course for fear of being called out again, and receiving the disdain she had from her fellow school mates. This would be the class that she would forever stay as silent as possible in, just saying enough in class to get by and if she had any questions.... well she would have to ask Jonah or Sona for help later. She opened her notebook and wrote Disarming Charm: Expeliarmus. Class goal: Disarm Professor. Vespera then thought to herself, that her personal goal would be to not disarm the professor, and to just stay in the back and watch someone else do it, it would be better that way.

Sonora followed Jonah to DADA, chipper for the first class of the year. She was a little surprised he picked a seat towards the back but cheered up immediately when she noticed Vespera. Jonah seemed to have something to say privately to Ves though, so Sona settled for a wave and cheery smile. She started getting her supplies out.

Professor Cohen, who always seemed to have exciting classes, started the first class with her reminder that DADA was about choices, and then started the year with a challenge. Disarm--that's Expelliarmus, Sona noted, setting her quill down and reaching for her wand instead. But even as her fingers closed around her wand, Sonora knew that that wasn't going to work for her. Despite her best efforts in Dueling club last year, she couldn't quite manage to completely disarm her upperclassmen club members-- even if she managed to get them to drop their wands, they'd recover before she could do more than hope she got out of the way before their next spell cam flying at her. But if they were sufficiently distracted or unable to cast... perhaps they would recover as well? And there was a spell that was she had actually gotten better at than Expelliarmus that made the target quite unable to fumble effectively.

Caught up in her internal strategizing, Sona jumped a little when Jonah stood up abruptly next to her. Now! Right as he does! She raised her wand quickly. Instead of scarlet though, the light was silver as only a second or so after Jonah she cast: "Rictusempra!"

▬▬"An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day." ▬▬

Vespera walked in just as the door was about to close, and saw the room in utter chaos. When the Professor said what they would be doing she sighed and put her bag of books down, and pulled out her wand. "Fi-nee-tay in-can-TAH-tem," she spoke softly pointing her wand at a chair close to her, in the back of the room. the chair lowered an inch or two, but stayed floating. There wasn't enough umph in the spell to make it work well. She sighed and spoke a little louder, in a normal inside voice, and pointed to the chair, willing it to come down as she spoke and waved her wand,"Finite Incatatem." The chair collapsed back to the floor, mission accomplished.