draco malfoy imagines.

❛boggart.❜

warnings: mentions of abuse and violence, harry doesn't get to see his boggart like the plot, swearing, throwing up.

run boy run, woodkid.

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y/n's pov:

standing in the crowd of third years, i shuffle from foot to foot. i hate defence against the dark arts. with an absolute passion. everyone surrounding me has excited energy lacing through their voices. i adjust my red and gold tie nervously, making sure my top button on my shirt is done up.

my eyes dart from side to side, glancing from person to person, while i play with the hem of the sleeve of my robe. the cupboard presented at the front of the classroom moving. there's something in there. i shudder at what could be behind those doors. the door creaks open behind us, making me jump from my thoughts.

our new teacher, professor remus lupin. the man of a tall size, with sandy brown hair - bits of grey running through it, despite being quite young. his robes reaching his ankles, whilst on his face, faded pink scars. almost slashes across the seemingly pale skin. his blue eyes held a type of kindness that i'd never seen before in a teacher. almost as if he cares.

scanning around the area of children, his eyes land on harry, a small smile plays across his lips. he then notices me, a shy, timid girl, who fiddles with her sleeves or shuffles her feet nervously. his smile drops slightly, unnoticeable to the others. but as quickly as it dropped, his smile came back - not wanting to alarm anyone of his observations.

"welcome!" he started, ordinarily, "i'm remus lupin, your new defence against the dark arts teacher, questions?" everybody shakes their head, whilst i just stand rooted to my spot, unable to move. the cupboard shakes again. he subtly sighs and nods his head curtly. he begins to circle the back of the crowd. "anybody like to venture a guess as to what is inside?"

"that's a boggart, that is!" dean thomas, my fellow gryffindor, answered confidently. a smile of amusement was still spread across lupin's features, "very good, mr thomas," he says, "now can anybody tell me what a boggart looks like?"

"no one knows," hermione pipes up, out of nowhere, "boggarts are shapeshifters, they take the shape of whatever a person fears the most." i audibly gulped, terrified. "that's what makes them so-"

"so terrifying, yes, yes, yes," he cuts hermione off, walking up to the cupboard, "luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart. let's practice it now, without wands please." i sigh quietly and glance my eyes to the side. draco malfoy is leant against the side of the wall, his arm in a sling, face contorted with an annoyed expression. he's simply bored.

he looks up at me and smirks, catching me staring. i cast my eyes to my shoes, finding them more interesting, blood rushing up my neck to my cheeks. he's always had a weird thing for me, a slytherin liking a gryffindor. it's crazy. and he shamelessly does it, time after time. but i'm shy, and i have trust issues laced throughout my hesitant actions. hence being alone lots of the time.

i push away the thoughts, closing my eyes briefly. he doesn't like me, father said nobody would like someone as weak as me. i huff and open my eyes, lupin's eyes trained on me silently. he smiles, his eyes full of unsaid concern and worry, and i weakly return it. i'd missed everybody saying the charm, i nervously huddled into myself. he repeated it and everybody says it louder. however, i don't say anything.

"this class is ridiculous," draco spits out, his goon friends laughing at his antics. lupin began to talk, but i zoned out. hearing bits and bobs like "laughter," and "something you find truly amusing." he picks on neville to go first. i close my hands into fists, hitting my sides slightly. "now, neville, could you join me please."