𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬 [𝖍.𝖌]

eight | fear is a mortal trait

guys i'm alive :D

TW: MENTIONS OF BLOOD, S*XUAL ASS*ULT, VIOLENCE
summary at the bottom
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Dahlia hung back while Harry opened the door and strode inside. Meekly, she followed.

Ten minutes later (Harry had dragged Dahlia to Defence ten minutes early), the class had gathered — a mix of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins. Dahlia noted with a distaste that Malfoy and his cronies were present.

"Welcome, third years!" exclaimed Professor Lupin. Dahlia folded her arms and leaned against a filing cabinet. The class slowly looked up, and various noises of shuffling ensued as the class moved to get a better look at their professor.

"Good afternoon, Professor Lupin," chorused the class together. Dahlia muttered the phrase quietly, noticing the blushes on a few of her classmates' faces.

Loud footsteps outside the door of the classroom made Dahlia look up. The class stilled as Professor Snape entered the room with a flurry of robes, striding powerfully right up to Professor Lupin. The taller of the two stared in mild surprise and concern.

"Yes, Severus?" asked Lupin, a slight frown on his face. Dahlia watched as Professor Snape cast a glaring look upon the students in the room. He stopped when he and the red-haired witch made eye contact, but moved on and eventually fell to Neville Longbottom.

"I would be careful with Mr Longbottom if I were you," he drawled, his face alight with malice. "Mr Longbottom... is scatterbrained." Snickers from the third-year Slytherins arose, and Dahlia clenched her fists, but Professor Lupin cleared his throat.

"Well, it is a pity that I am not you, in fact," he said mildly. "Come on, class — Severus, I'm sure you have somewhere to be, you're a busy man — " Snape smiled shallowly and exited just as quick as he had come. Professor Lupin sighed. "Let's crack on, class. Let's not let Professor Snape get us down." He caught Neville's eye and smiled.

Dahlia frowned. Maybe her opinion of him was too one-sided.

Thud. Crash. Boom.

Dahlia and her peers stood huddled behind each other as a wardrobe older than Ms Eun crashed and shook about on its own.

"Mental," whispered Ron, who was next to her. "He's absolutely mad."

Dahlia had to agree. She'd read ahead first year, but that hadn't meant she was ready for practical bits. Granted, her last professors in Defence had been sick fucks, but the young red-haired witch tended to hold herself to a higher standard than most of her peers.

Whatever. She'd get through it like she always did.

"Class," announced Lupin loudly, facing the crowd of third-years. "This — " he gestured to the wardrobe as it shook extra hard, almost as if whatever was inside knew their professor was talking about it. A wailing sound came from within, making Lavender jump straight back into Parvati Patil. " — is a boggart."

Dahlia's eyes widened. She knew what a boggart was, and judging by Lavender's scared expression, she knew what it meant too. She grabbed the girl's hand and Lavender held on tight. She didn't know if she meant to give reassurance or to need it.

"Now, can anyone tell me what a boggart is?" asked Professor Lupin primly, giving a look of curt distaste to the wardrobe next to him as it shook and shuddered. A small, practiced hand shot up in the sea of students. "Your name, miss..."

"Hermione Granger, sir," answered Hermione. Dahlia pursed her lips as an unnameable feeling worked it's way through her stomach. "No one knows what a boggart looks like, because it's constantly shapeshifting to become the victim's worst fears."