𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲]

c h a p t e r t h r e e

"Today we will be learning about boggarts"

"But sir, we already learnt about them in year 3!" Hermione exclaimed, the disturbance in the planned topics obviously throwing her off. I rolled my eyes; she sure did annoy me.

"I do not feel you have learnt a sufficient amount of information, and from what I have heard, half of you have never even faced a boggart." The classroom was dimly lit, the blinds pulled down over the windows, the sun breaking through thin gaps in the fabric. We all stood, queued up, ready to defend against the boggart.

Canyon went first, the boggart came out the cupboard slowly. Swimming stealthily across the room was a shark. People near the back gasped as the flying shark swam above their heads. Shaking Canyon pulled out her wand, pointing it in the direction of the boggart and shouting "Riddikulus"
The shark's teeth shrunk away, and it produced a collection of red hair above its head. We all burst into laughter. Its features terribly similar to that of the Weasleys.

Modesty was up next, the shark still confused; set eyes upon her, and it turned into the dark mark. She shouted the familiar spell and the moving snake turned into a long balloon, winding in and out of all the students as it let go of all its air.

Draco stepped up, and much to everyone's surprise, a cupboard appeared in front of him. Some people snickered at the back. The whole room burst into laughter. Mumbling "reddikulus" Malfoy walked to the back of the line, his confidence wavering. He didn't even have to change the bogart for people to laugh at it. Glaring at the people laughing I suddenly felt a protective emotion flood over me. It was a foreign feeling and I contained it so it wouldn't break free and cause more havoc.

The cupboard loomed in front of me. It didn't change and the class shushed one another, obviously curious as to why it hadn't differed at all. The cupboard door slowly opened, and a coffin floated out.

"i.o.vent" was carved across the front of it, the writing large enough for all to see. My breath caught in my throat. The coffin was fathers. Clasping my hand over my mouth I took a step back. I knew the spell. But how do I make this funny? Everyone gasped as the coffin began to slowly open and a severed hand grabbed the side. My father pulled himself up so he was sitting in the coffin as if it was a boat. His face was all distorted and he was as white as the clouds. A green mark cut across his face. It was terrifying.

"Someone stop it" I pleaded, hoping someone would step out in front of me to distract the boggart. No one moved and I took another step backwards as my dad began to get out the coffin.

"Evie" it spoke, mimicking my dad's voice perfectly.

"Please?" I asked, fear in every corner of my body. The coffin suddenly thrust forward, and new writing appeared under dads' name.

"killed by Voldemort
for betrayal of the death mark"

I shouted "Riddikulus" at the top of my lungs, desperately wanting it to go away. Waving my wand around in the air like a first year. Tears began to run down my face, wetting my tie and shirt. The bogart remained.

"Stop it" Canyon shouted from the back; her anger directed towards snape.

Luckily the bogart had stilled now; and my zombie like father just stood staring at me. No life in his eyes. The clinking of shoes pulled my eyes from my fathers. Father shuddered. Moving towards me. Then he disappeared; and the cupboard stood alone again. Undisturbed.

Draco had stepped in front of me, glaring at snape.
"Riddikulus" he muttered, and the cabinet dropped to the floor, now a matchbox.

The class moved around, all on their way to their friends, I felt Canyon scutter up beside me, she was talking to me, but I was fixed upon snape putting the matchbox in a chest and slamming it.
"Thank Malfoy" I mumbled. Canyon looked confused. Meanwhile I needed to get out of the classroom, regardless of what the consequences might be.

Going quiet, the class watched me sprint out of the door. I felt embarrassed. Most of all I was scared, that the writing had given dad away. Had I exposed my dad to my whole class for working behind Voldemort's back. For working with the light side rather than against it.

The common room was practically empty (other than a few first years crowded around a book, huddled together in the corner like penguins) I knew if I stayed here the others would eventually catch up with me. I had to go to my safe place. My hiding place.