Werewolves and Boggarts

"Riddikulus!" shouted Ronald Weasley, his boggart – a giant acromantula – suddenly gaining roller blades. The large arachnid slipped and slid before falling into its stomach, defeated.

"Well done, Mr. Weasley!" congratulated Remus Lupin, the professor this year for Defence Against the Dark Arts. "Very well done. Now, who's next?"

The kindly werewolf was amused to find all but two of his fourth period students step back, leaving just Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood forward.

"Right then. Mr. Potter? Would you like to go next?" a warm smile spread across his marred face as he addressed his dead best friend's son.

"Yes, sir," replied the onyx haired thirteen year old, stepping closer to the wardrobe in which the subdued boggart resided.

"Well then, the incantation is Riddikulus –"

"- This class is 'riddikulus'," snorted Malfoy, a tall, slim built blond boy, as he leant against an abandoned Grindylow tank.

Harry rolled his eyes, biting his tongue. It wouldn't do to slag Malfoy off in front of his favourite professor.

"Thank you, Draco. Now, Harry, if you wouldn't mind?" Lupin motioned to the wardrobe, and receiving a nod from the boy, flicked his wand, setting the shapeshifter free of its confines.

Before anyone could blink, a large, black cloaked figure emerged from the closet, cold air chilling all who stood near enough. Those who were shivered, stepping further backwards until their backs bumped into the wall. A dementor wasn't a very nice creature to be around, real or not.

"R-r-riddikulus!" Harry stood, jaw clenched and head spinning, as the dark, soul sucking beast hovered closer to where he stood. Finding new strength, he straightened his back and hardened his eyes, steadying his wand hand. "RIDDIKULUS!" With that – very powerful – casting, the imagined horror melted into a puddle on the floor, before being banished back to the wardrobe with a motion of a slack-jawed Lupin's wrist.

"H-harry…"

"I'm fine professor. I believe it's Malfoy's turn now?" Harry, panting and pale, wobbled over to Ron and Hermione, his best friends since first year.

"Bloody hell mate! A Dementor? That's amazing." Ron patted Harry on the back as he joined them, Hermione hushing them as she took mental notes on the class.

Draco stood, rigid now, glaring at Harry.

"Come now, Mr. Malfoy. Everyone else has done it." Lupin chastised the seemingly sullen teenager.

"Whatever. Fine." Shouldering past his minions, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the aristocratic, silver eyed boy wielded his wand, pointing it shakily towards where the boggart was to appear.

Nobody expected what happened next. Instead of a snake, as everyone has assumed the Slytherin's worst fear would be, Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, stepped out, a sneer on his face, grey eyes as cold and hard as chips of ice.

A slam from the corner of the room signalled Draco's departure, quickly followed by sniggers and whispers from both the Slytherin and Gryffindor sides of the room. Harry however, had a contemplative look on his face. Why had Malfoy bolted?

Following his instincts, and not feeling too guilty about it as class was soon to let out, the surprisingly intuitive boy took off after Draco.

Seemingly following his scent, Harry soon found him. The other boy was huddled over with his hands covering his face, weeping in an alcove down in the dungeons.

"Malfoy?" A flinch was all he got in response. "Draco," he tried again, this time kneeling before the frightened teenager. Harry placed a tentative hand on one of the other boy's knees, rubbing small, comforting circles with his thumb.

"Draco, it's me, Harry. I know I'm probably not the person you want right now, but I'm the only one here. You're okay. It was just a boggart – your father isn't here."

The alabaster haired boy looked up, a small, hesitant smile on his face, belying the fact that just moments before he'd been sobbing, red rimmed eyes and snot covering his handsome face.

"T-thanks?" the boy tried, unused to people being kind to him. Usually, it was just people cosying up to him to get in his father's good books. He shuddered at the thought of said man, his breathing speeding up again.

-0-

Unbeknownst to the two bonding boys, Professor Severus Snape had witnessed the encounter. If you were to look at him with an untrained eye, hiding in the shadows with his cloak wrapped tightly around him, you would believe that the man was angry. In fact, he was the opposite. Surprised, maybe, but having second thoughts? That was a definite yes.

-0-

"Hey, it's alright," reassured Harry, taking in the paling boys form. "He's not here, remember?"

A nod in response.

"Okay then. Shall we get you back to your dorms? I'm sure you'll be excused from tonights lessons."

Another nod and they were off, Harry helping the other boy stand, taking him by the hand and heaving the shockingly light boy up. Harry didn't think even he was that slim, even with… well, never mind. The bespectacled boy shook his head, clearing his head from its own morose thoughts. Now was not the time.