Boggarts In The Closet

For Penny

Boggarts in the Closet

The insolent Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was teaching them about Boggarts.

Like his fellow Slytherins, Draco Malfoy held Professor Remus Lupin in high contempt. Of course, the last two professors hadn't been any better. One had been a stuttering fool. The other, so narcissistic that Draco found it difficult to believe that his head could fit through any door in the castle. Lupin was scruffy, weary and, in Draco's opinion, a prat. Graying hair, tired eyes, worn clothing... he looked as if he were poorer than a Weasley, if at all possible.

"Can anyone tell me about a Boggart's magic?" Lupin asked.

Boggarts. Evil, foul things that infested dark places, feeding off of the fear of those who approached. They were terrible, like the Dementors which now stood sentry outside the school and in the town of Hogsmeade. Boggarts were regarded as the third foulest creatures on the face of the planet, following only Dementors and, of course, You-Know-Who.

Nobody raised their hand at Lupin's question, so Draco drawled, "They can turn into our innermost fears."

"Right Malfoy," Lupin said. "Five points. Now, can you tell me what the disadvantage for a Boggart would be, if facing a group such as us?"

Once more, nobody said a thing. Draco remained silent this time. He didn't want to be a teacher's pet after all.

"Oh, come now, somebody has to have a guess!"

Still, no one spoke. Beside Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were looking absolutely stumped, as they did when asked a difficult question.

"Fine then... well, the rest of this lesson is practical. Please pack your books and follow me."

Lupin stood. His tattered cloak shook out a bit of dust as he walked; Draco sneered to his friends, who guffawed along with him.

"I found a Boggart a few days ago," the professor told his class as they cantered down the hallway, "and the headmaster has allowed me to trap it so that my Defence students may practice dispelling upon it."

Lupin led them to the Staff Room, gestured them in and locked the door behind them. At one end of the room was an antique wardrobe, which groaned as the students entered. Only one person looked remotely nervous: Blaise Zabini, a small blond witch who Draco thought to be weak anyway. She's just a filthy Mudblood anyway, he thought.

"The Boggart is trapped in that wardrobe--"

"Couldn't tell," Draco drawled loudly.

Lupin raised an eyebrow at Draco and said, "If I may, Mr. Malfoy... I want you all to picture your greatest fears, for when the Boggart approaches you, it will take that form."

Draco smirked, wondering if the Boggart would assume any form whatsoever when it approached him. But he knew at least one thing that it could spawn from his fears: Dementors. He kept his mind set on that.

"Now, picture that fear taking on some sort of humorous form."

Draco imagined a Dementor pulling its hood off to reveal a clown's face (Harry Potter's face covered with more make-up than the Patil twins and Lavender Brown combined), which almost made him chuckle aloud. He watched as his fellow house members concentrated on the same task.

"Finished?" Lupin asked. "Smashing. Now... um, Goyle. Why don't you come here?"

The bulky boy stepped forward, wary of what was to happen.

"As I've told you, the Boggart will take the form of your innermost fear. When I release it, Goyle, I want you to picture it in that humorous form. Point your wand at it and say, "Riddikulus!" If you do it correctly, the Boggart will be forced to take the form of your mental image."

Draco could see that Lupin's wording had confused Goyle.

"Now, the key to defeating a Boggart is simply laughter. This will banish it, if it is pure, unforced laughter.

"Mr. Goyle, when you're ready."

Goyle swallowed; Draco rolled his eyes. The large boy nodded vigorously and Professor Lupin took aim at the wardrobe, and fired a spell from his wand. Golden sparks hit the door's handle.

The door creaked open to reveal a sallow-skinned Vampire, with eyes sunken back into the nether regions of its skull, long white hair flowing down its back and vicious looking fangs. It hissed and clawed the air.

Goyle lifted his wand and grunted, "Riddikulus."

A noise, a whip-crack noise, which startled some of the students, was followed by one of laughter, for next second, the vampire looked confused. It opened its mouth, and out fell a pair of worn dentures.

The class erupted in laughter. Draco clapped Goyle on the shoulder, proud for once of his chum. Goyle looked rather pleased himself.

"Ms. Zabini, you next."

The Muggle-Born Blaise stepped forward with caution underlining her steps. The Vampire (gumming the air at this point) turned on her.

POOF!

In its place was a skeleton. A rotted, glistening thing, damp with putrid decay and yellowing bones, especially around the mouth. It clicked and clacked as it drew closer.

Pale in the face and trembling, Blaise pulled her wand up. She cried, "Riddikulus!"

The sound of a horse-whip cracked again and in an instant, the skeleton was clean, wearing a top-hat, and a black cane had been forced into its now bleached white hand.

"Hello my baby,

hello my darling,

hello my rag-time gal!"

More laughter filled the air as the girl stepped back, blushing. The skeleton continued on with its surreal dance routine and Draco offered a derisive smirk at Blaise. Blusing with embarrassment, Blaise lowered her head. Served her right.

"Mr. Malfoy! You seem to find this all too easy. Why don't you take a crack at it?"

Draco nodded to his cronies, who cracked their knuckles. Draco swaggered forward as the skeleton finished its ragtime number.

This should be fun. Clown face, picture Potter--

POOF!

For a moment, Draco had no idea what had appeared in front of him. But then he realized.

Long, glossy blond hair, which was unmistakable. The black suit and boots, polished like mirrors, in which Draco could see his own face.

The serpentine-head scepter in one hand.

Lucius Malfoy.

"You careless boy!" the Boggart roared. "How look at what you've done!"

The Boggart suddenly attacked, raising an outstretched hand and slapping Draco across the face. The force of the blow knocked him back and to the ground. Draco landed hard and felt the tears welling.

No...

"You are not worthy of the Malfoy name!" the Boggart spat, continuing its assault. "The Dark Lord would be most dis--"

"Over here!' came Lupin's voice quite suddenly.

POOF!

Draco looked up and through blurred eyes, saw a yellow orb, hovering in front of Lupin. The teacher snapped, "Riddikulus," and the orb fell to the ground, shattering as if made of glass. Draco felt hands on him as he watched the Lupin forced the Boggart back into its wardrobe. He looked over his shoulder to see Crabbe and Goyle raising him to his feet.

***

"Care to talk about it?"

From across the table, Lupin held a firm gaze on Draco, who remained silent and sat staring at the untouched mug of tea. He was so unfocused that he had to ask Lupin to repeat the question.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Draco shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it, especially not to an inferior. Not to anyone for that matter. Nobody deserved to know.

"I know what your father is like."

With a glare, Draco snapped, "Do you now?"

"Of course I do," Lupin replied, unaffected by Draco's unabashed rudeness. "I went to school with him, after all, though he was less respectable back then. He has not changed attitude-wise, so it would appear."

Draco fell silent. He was fuming in his own little corner.

To have been exposed like that! In front of more than twenty people, all of whom Draco considered toe-rags in comparison to him - it had to be the most defining moment in his developing anger issues. To let people see that he feared his own father over the likes of the Dark Lord, or even Dementors.

"He was very aggressive," Lupin was saying, "and much a of snob as well... Oh, he had friends, certainly, many people wanted his respect and a hand in his pocket; like you, they were all in Slytherin. Avery, McNair, LeStrange... he and Professor Snape were good friends as well."

At last, Draco worked up the courage to look up at Lupin and say, "Don't speak of my father."

Lupin smiled a little and asked, "Why do you fear your father Draco?"

The only thing Draco could offer was a smoldering glare.

"Does he abuse you at all? Mentally? Physically? Does he make you feel less than you should? Does--"

"It's none of your business!" Draco snarled. His outburst was accompanied by a wave of furious accidental magic that hit his mug of tea and shatered it.

"Draco, it's illegal to--"

"You think I don't know that, peasant?"

Lupin looked genuinely stunned. He stared at Draco for a few seconds. Then, he nodded.

"All right. I'll butt out. It's none of my business."

Furious, Draco pushed himself out of his seat and headed. pell-mell, for the door.

"Come back to see me if you need to talk, Draco," Lupin muttered from his desk. He looked utterly defeated, saddened even.

Draco turned for a moment. His face was impassive, but a second later, a look of acceptance crossed his face. But it was short lived. He turned and left the office.