A/N: So! My name is Penkind and these are my stories. This is mostly a mirror of the story by the same name on Archiveofourown. I've decided to try and broaden my audience in my growing attempt to build a solid platform for which I will eventually market my novel. If I ever finish it. And if I don't finish it, and I have no novel to market, then at the very least I will have broadened my audience for my fanfiction.

What is 'What you are in the Dark'? It's a story about Boggarts! A collection of short stories about Boggarts is marginally more accurate. Boggarts are great. Fears are great. I find them a brilliant tool for characterisation, and that's ultimately what I wanted to achieve here. This started as an experiment and became one of my best pieces.

I should probably warn you. This gets pretty sad.

"Alright Dave, your turn!" The Professor calls out, all shabby robes and weathered face. He's aged, Time isn't kind to anyone but it seems to have a vendetta against him. You'd know all about Time's Vendetta, because it seems to hate you above all, doesn't it? Pointless thoughts are shaken from your head because you are Dave Strider, and Strider's are cool. Cold. Like blocks of ice shaved to human form. Blocks of awesome ice.

You are Dave Strider, and you are about to face your greatest fear. Whatever that is. You never really spent much time wondering what your greatest fear was. If you did, you'd certainly never tell anyone. That would be the epitome of uncool, and Strider's were the coolest. But that wasn't to say you didn't have fears. You had a lot of them, actually. You feared your friends dying (permanently), you feared your Bro dying (again). You feared Li'l Cal but everyone who had a shred of sanity in their skull feared Li'l Cal. That... thing was a soulless monster, and you had felt vindicated when it was revealed that it was the vessel for Lord English.

But you weren't sure which of those you feared most, if any were indeed your greatest fear. Enough mental gymnastics Dave, time to make it or break it. You step forward, and the others step back. What was originally what appeared to be some sort of zombie, stares at you. There's the

CRACK

you've come to associate with the change and

Bro.

He looks... fine? You can't see any blood. He's alive. Healthy. Alive and staring at you. Your Bro. Alive. Not Dirk, but Bro. Dirk is Bro but he's not, really, at the same time, and you can't hate him for that, that'd be wrong, but it still irks you because he looks like him but he's not at the same time and he probably never will be. You're digressing, you do that. Bro gives you a disinterested look behind pointy shades and a part of you just melts because it's so Bro.

You want to hug him but you don't because you're a Strider. "The hell, little man?" He says, and his tone is... disappointed. You've never heard him be disappointed before. He crosses his arms blankly at you, the faint splotch of oh god no. You can hear some of the other students gasp and take steps back because there's blood, blooming like a scarlet rose on the white of his shirt. "I thought I raised you better than this." His skin is paling rapidly, and the blood rose is getting bigger and a little part of says it's not real but it feels real, it looks real.

Davesprite's memories are your memories and although they kind of swim in your head in a way you find odd (you were a Time Travelling Not-Hero who Saved the Universe, you could deal with it), you know them like the back of your hand. You can remember in perfect, horrible clarity, watching the blade slide through Bro's chest.

You can remember the way he fell to the ground, the way dread and fear filled your chest and it's all coming back right now and it hurts.

It's just a Boggart you say to yourself, and raise your wand but then it changes with a

CRACK

and it's not Bro anymore. You can't tell if looking into Rose's hollow eyes are any worse. "You left me behind." She says quietly, and there's a martini glass in her hand and a Thorn of Oglogoth in the other, and it hurts your heart because you're sorry, you couldn't take her with you and you wanted to so badly. Your wand is raised now and all you have to do is say the words, cast the spell and this is over and you will do it because you are a Strider and you won't be broken by anything, you survived Jack Noir, you survived Lord English, you survived SBURB and you will blow this away.

CRACK

John hovers before you in his Heir of Breath outfit, and it's not disappointment in his face, it's disgust and it cuts through you so sharply you don't even have the composure to keep the hurt from your face. "What the hell are you doing Dave, playing at being a Hero?" He sneers, and the expression is so John and the words are too he'd never say this to you, though, never because you were bestest bros forever but it hurts hurts hurts and it won't stop

CRACK

Jade's ears flicker and the way she snarls at you reminds you of that devilbeast Bec, white teeth bared at you angrily. "Gryffindor is the House of the Brave, Fuckass!" What the hell are you doing in there? You wondered yourself and that's probably why the Boggart is telling you this, because you were never a real Hero and John should've been in Gryffindor, not you, you belonged in Hufflepuff or something. "Riddikulus." You bite out the words, trembling with something you haven't felt in a long time.

This isn't fear, not the way you remember it, this is terror. Creeping up your spine and winding around your limbs. 'Jade' hits the ground, snoozing lightly, tail wagging. You always thought her narcolepsy was cute.

Everyone is silent behind you and Professor Lupin says nothing when you turn around and leave the class.

You need some time alone.