are benign, on rare occasions some have shown themselves to be malevolent; a few are very dangerous indeed. If provoked, they can kill, delivering a blow hard enough to shatter a skull or tear out a throat with one swift slash of their sharp claws.
It was then that I had a sudden flash of inspiration. My master had told me that far to the south of the County, an old spook had once reached a comfortable accommodation with a boggart. In return for certain concessions, it had agreed to keep his house clean and tidy. So why didn’t I attempt to do the same?
“Sounds like you don’t much want to move on again. Well, I can tell you, I don’t much want to move either, so we’ve reached a deadlock. We could fight it out until one of us is destroyed, but I think there’s a better way to settle this. You and I need to come to an arrangement. Life could be very comfortable for both of us,” I suggested. “Perhaps you could stay here and keep things tidy; also cook and clean for me. You’d never have to worry about being hunted and hounded by another spook, and on top of that I’d make sure you were well rewarded in other ways.”
The boggart began to materialize again, taking the form of the large ginger tomcat. It glowed in the dark, and its fur was standing on end. Was it preparing to attack?
I thrust my hands into my pockets and pulled out two handfuls of what I’d stored there: salt in my right hand, iron filings in my left. The boggart saw my intention and let out a warning growl.
“Accept my offer or suffer the consequences!” I warned in reply.
For a moment we faced each other. Then the boggart slowly faded away. I waited in the darkness for almost an hour, just in case it returned. Finally I went off to bed, tired and worried. I felt I should have reacted faster and slayed the creature there and then.
But the following morning, there was a surprise waiting for me in the kitchen. A cozy fire was burning in the grate, and a hot meal was laid out on the table: bacon, eggs, and sausages, cooked to perfection. I ate with relish, but when I stood to leave the table, I heard a low angry growl. Thinking quickly, I realized my mistake and put it right immediately.
“My compliments to the cook,” I said hastily. “That was just about the best breakfast I’ve ever tasted!”
At once there came a deep purring from beneath the table and I felt a big cat rub itself against my ankles. So far, so good. This boggart certainly appreciated flattery!
For a while things continued in the same way. Each morning an appetizing breakfast was waiting for me, and this was eventually extended to suppers as well. This continued—until, very gradually, things began to change and the quality of the cooking started to deteriorate. Some mornings the bacon would be burned or the eggs underdone. Then there came a time when no breakfast was waiting; that night, once again, I heard the sound of plates being smashed downstairs.
By the time I reached the kitchen door, the sounds had stopped, but I could hear the scritch-scratching of the boggart’s sharp claws. I waited until there was silence, then, carrying a candle, finally entered that room. There, etched deeply into the wooden chopping block, were the words:
Quickly I realized my folly. I had promised a reward but had failed to deliver. In that instant the candle blew out and the door slammed shut behind me. I was in grave danger.
I had salt and iron in my pockets, but this was a powerful boggart that had chosen not to show itself, so I had no means of locating my target. I reached for the door handle, and as I began to turn it, I felt a tremendous blow to my head that knocked it back hard against the frame. Befuddled and in pain, I stumbled to my knees. Then came the sharp sting of claws being raked down my right cheek. I was close to panic and scrambled to my feet, my heart racing with fear.
Somehow I managed to get the door open and stagger out of the room. There I looked in the mirror, examining the livid scratches on my face and listening to the smashing of crockery from the kitchen.
With the pain burning my right cheek, a lump