Boggart Fantasies

Chapter 1: A Discovery

They must have been kidding me.

After sitting down in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and engaging in the gossip of the day (we were still amused by Harry's fiasco with the Dementor on the train) our "professor" stumbled in. That garbage can of a person was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Pretty damn funny. His robes were tattered and faded, his face wary, he was a disgrace. I'd given up on Hogwarts. Maybe father will let me transfer to Durmstrang.

The "professor" gave the Slytherin third years the usual boring intro--his name and all that crap. Honestly, I wasn't paying attention. Then it was off to some room in the castle to practice defeating a boggart. What a challenge. Couldn't we at least do something useful? Guess not.

I wondered for a few moments, "What scares me the most?" I couldn't think of anything. Well, I suppose I was being dishonest to myself, because, in all truth, one thing came to mind that would nearly have me shrieking. Harry Potter. Sure, I'm a bastard to him all the time because it's fun. But when I think about it, he's a damn good seeker. And loosing to him would kill me. Maybe it isn't him I fear, maybe it's loosing I fear. Maybe one day, my little scrawny rival will outdo me.

No, Draco, don't think like that. You're better then he.

A smile crossed my face. I'd never lose to Potty.

My mind raced through a tangled web as the "professor" instructed our class as to how one should defeat the boggart. What shape would it assume when it got to me? What if it was Potty? I'd be the laughingstock of the school. They'd say, "What kind of bully fears his victims?" or "Malfoy is such a fake". That's it, I would have to resort to hiding behind Crabbe and let someone else deal with the boggart. Good idea, I said to myself.

The boggart was fought as I danced away from Lupin, trying to avoid fighting the damn thing. Goyle was up now, and the boggart took the form of a werewolf. I could have sworn Lupin winced and muttered under his breath. Goyle's voice echoed through the room as he shouted, "Riddikulus!" The werewolf howled and whined, and with a crack, it was reduced to a small, tail- wagging puppy. He grunted in satisfaction as the boggart dog moved on to Millicent Bulstrode and took the form of a giant, which almost shattered the ceiling when it stood up and bumped his great ugly head.

Within minutes, half the class had gone through with the boggart, and, to my triumph, I needed not step up. Pansy Parkinson was the last to fight the boggart before it was diminished to thousands of tiny gray smoke wisps. Lupin dismissed the class. Crabbe, Goyle, and I walked through the corridor to our next class, talking about Lupin's lack of qualification to teach and the easy defeat of a boggart.

The day went on as any normal day would. After dinner, we went to the Slytherin common room to finish up our homework, but something was still plaguing me. I needed to know what form the boggart would assume when he saw me. It was one of those things that lingers in my mind until I get to the bottom of it. So I did just that.

Once the common room emptied out, I made my move. I disguised my face with some extra cloth I had left over from Madam Malkins', and sneaked furtively out of the Slytherin house. The halls of Hogwarts were shadowed by the silver moonlight, but it was just dark enough so that I probably couldn't be seen at a distance. With a small incantation, "Revealus", I allowed my wand to guide me in the direction of any boggart in the castle.

I extended my arm, holding my sleek wand before me. There was just light enough to see it's cylindrical shape. I followed it through--what seemed at the time--all of Hogwarts. There was one occasion when the wand led me straight into a table. I shoved my shin into one wooded leg, but restrained myself from crying out in spite of the table's little murder attempt. The table was knocked over with a thud. I stopped moving, my heart seemed to be beating right out of my chest. It could have exploded. If I were caught, that would be it for me. I had no scapegoat, but surely I could think of one.

I slid my eyeballs back and forth in the corners of my eyes, making sure nobody was coming. After several minutes of ceasing to breath or move, I decided the coast was clear. I stuck my wand out again and followed in pursuit. Through a series of panels, I was guided up to what looked like an unused closet of some sort. I lit my wand so I could see. There were several broomsticks, a few chains of some sort, and a round box, which shook and rattled violently on the dusty floor.

I blinked and bent over to pick up the round box. Any second now and my boggart would be released. I decided to open it at once, rather then allow myself to think about what would be inside. I peeled the box open with my fingertips and dropped it hastily to the ground as the boggart emerged.

As I had suspected, the boggart morphed into Harry Potter. No question about it--there was no mistaking those corrosive green eyes that pierced through the world like a pair of toxic emeralds blinding me beneath ugly round glasses, or that greasy black hair mopped in disarray upon his head, or that pale, lurid scar centered on his forehead. I stepped back in remorse. It sensed my fear like a dog digging for a bone. Harry smirked, inching closer to me. I stumbled behind again, until I could not move any further due to the small closet size.

Harry moved closer.

And closer.

And closer.

I could feel his hot breath against my face. He slammed his hands against my shoulders and pushed me hard against the cold wall. "I want you, Malfoy." Oh god. I didn't even know boggarts could talk, but at the time, I had completely forgotten he was a boggart. Harry spoke again. "I want you now." His lips curved, luring me in. I screamed, or, at least, I tried. Nothing came out.

"I..." My voice trailed off, I turned my head away from Harry. I could still feel him panting against my neck, embarking on me. I couldn't stop him. I squirmed, but he had me trapped firmly beneath his hands.

"I've need to know what love is like, Malfoy, I need to find out. I'm hungry for you." He spoke readily as always. Harry seemed dignified like that.

"Can't you just eat a damn Snicker's Bar?" I asked.

"But I want you." He drew his hips into mine, I could feel his snaking body movements, I could feel his throbbing hardness against me. I coughed and gagged, and tried to stifle my arousal, but I couldn't help it. I turned rock hard, too. For an instant, there was this electric buzz between us, it shocked my body in ecstasy. Harry and I had resolved our differences and now we were simply two pristine animals rigid against one another. "You want me too, Malfoy." Shaking, I tried to say no. I tried to escape, but he persisted. He clawed ravenously at me, he moved his hands down my obliques and back up again. He drew his wet mouth to mine. His tongue was interlaced now. I forgot about any clashing between us, Quidditch, our house rivalry, the good and bad, it didn't matter. We linked together as one. His velvet red tongue swirled atop mine, massaging gently in passion.

No, I had to end it. Shuddering, I remembered my wand and trusted my face away from his. "Riddikulus!" With a crack, Harry's arms disappeared, and he romped around the closet like a decapitated chicken. Seeing my opportunity for freedom, I ran out of the closet and slammed the door. I fled as quickly as my feet could carry me, I could still hear the boggart rattling inside the closet.

Waking up the net day, I figured it was all some twisted dream. I dressed myself as always, and went over to breakfast with Crabbe and Goyle. I passed by Potty, remarked about his fainting incident in a shaky voice, and went on with my meal. I'd never see Potty in the same way, dream or no dream. I guess he looks a little more appealing to me now. I'll just keep that little aside to myself and see where I end up. Goyle asked me, "Where were you last night? I saw you leave the dorms."

With a cough, I answered, "I was screwing a boggart in a closet." Goyle laughed.

"Malfoy, you make some pretty sick jokes."