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The Unfinished Light of Heaven by magpie_igraine
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The Unfinished Light of Heaven

magpie_igraine

Author's note: Bit of light foolery…thanks to those who reviewed the standalone.

Chapter 10 Confessions of a Boggart

As expected, Graves gave his not-so-anticipated review on Boggarts late that November.

Least we'll know to watch out for any full moons, Hermione thought as several students lined up with forced smiles, awaiting their turn at the Freudian cupboard. Luckily, there weren't too many surprises this year. Draco's Boggart had turned into his father and Ron's into another spider. Luna, who'd come on "official" permission by Draco, stood up calmly and Riddikulused away a little frog-shaped, hairy glob.

"What was that?" Draco asked as she took her seat.

"A Larkin Larbuck," Luna said solemnly. "It's the most ill-tempered creature on the planet. One look can turn a man to mud."

Draco snickered and leaned over to Hermione, "Hey Granger, maybe you and the Larbuck could start a club."

"That's… not…. funny," Hermione said without looking up from on her parchment.

"With matching t-shirts," he went on blithely.

"I'm trying to take notes…"

"And get a newsletter going …hey!" Hermione elbowed him hard on the shoulder and went seamlessly back to her note taking, pointedly ignoring Draco's muttering about his at least not being turned to mud.

After the review, which lacked the Conga line, carefree air of third year's session, Hermione stayed behind, gathering her books and sorting through her piles of notes. As she fastened her bag, she heard the cupboard door creak open and turned just in time to see Harry's broken body tumble onto the floor. She hurried over, her hands over her mouth as she took in Harry's crumpled form, broken and pale against the blood that was pooling beneath him on the stone floor.

"Just…great." She shook her head and gave a put-upon sigh, surprisingly unfazed at the escaped Boggart. It wasn't the worst vision of Harry's death she'd had. Her nightmares were much more creative. At least they were set to a score of his screaming and begging.

Besides, she wasn't surprised at her worst fear's form.

"Yeah, you and half the school," she muttered, running her hand through her hair.

Now, she thought as she set her bag on a nearby desk, just how do you make this funny?

She studied pseudo-Harry, noting the immense lack of humor in the pooling blood, the broken arms, the twisted legs, the bruised face….

"Maybe I could pretend it's Deloris Umbridge," she murmured.

Finding that didn't work, she took a seat and stared at the Boggart intensely. Seeing this Harry, knowing that the real one was safe in the Gryffindor common room, (not studying no doubt) but still far from the avoidable danger he usually put himself in, was somehow cathartic.

She was having strange ideas about Fred and George selling Boggarts for trauma therapy when she heard the door open behind her.

"Hermione?"

Then, of course they could always sell them as humiliating pranks…

She turned to find her Harry staring wide-eyed at travel-sized Harry. He was looking back and forth, confusion clouding his features as he strode toward her.

Oh. My. Gods, she thought, burying her face in her hands. It was eternally embarrassing, and unsettlingly intimate, having Harry suddenly discover her greatest fear involved his death and dismemberment.

So, that in mind, she tried the laugh it off.


"Hide the body in a classroom… what was I thinking?" She shook her head and forced a chuckle, trying desperately to think of ways to Riddikulus it out of sight. Stupid body… get funny and go away…

"What is…?" Harry trailed off, his gaze still fixed on the bludgeoned version of himself.

"It's nothing Harry," Hermione said, waving him away. "One of the Boggarts got out. Good thing I found it else we'd have two Snapes running around." She paused and corrected herself. "Well, unless Ron saw it, then there'd be a dancing spider or a giant brain on the loose…"

He didn't answer. He just looked at her oddly as a heavy silence settled between them.

"You…" she started slowly, "you can leave now Harry…"

But of course Harry wasn't leaving, apparently morbidly fascinated by pieces-of-himself-Harry on the floor. Right, he's the morbid one. Granger, her ever unhelpful, Harry-sounding voice piped in. It's your vision love

In a moment of inspiration, she turned back to the Boggart, closed her eyes and concentrated. Real-Harry watched as the body, the blood, and the bruises disappeared in a flash of light.

Hermione then quickly gathered her books, and pushed past him, disappearing out the door and down the corridor before still-intact Harry could call her back.

He turned to follow her, all the while trying to suss out what he'd just seen, when he caught a flash of movement in the corner of the classroom.

"Do you want to know how she got rid of it Potter?" Draco's voice stopped Harry in his tracks. Of course, only Malfoy would be lurking in the shadows in the middle of the bloody afternoon. Apparently he'd been watching the whole thing from his spot in the shaded corner. Enjoying it too, if Harry wasn't mistaken, which he wasn't.

Draco stepped out of the shadows and repeated the offer, slowly this time. "Well… do you want to know?"

Harry didn't answer, so Malfoy took that as an 'oh gods yes.'

"She pretended she didn't care," Malfoy said with a smirk.

Harry narrowed his eyes and shook his head, not really wanting to hear about Hermione according to the Book of Malfoy, but apparently helpless against doing so.

Draco rolled his eyes, pitying the now-puzzled Gryffindor. Use small words.

"She pretended she didn't care Potter, because that's bloody ridiculous."

Malfoy then turned and strode down the corridor, his robes billowing dramatically behind him. But for once he was too busy smiling at the thought of Bogart-Harry to notice his own impressive exit. It'd been strangely cathartic seeing broken-Harry on the floor. He decided to bring a pensieve with him next time Hermione brushed up on her Boggarts.

Draco then went off to find Luna. Seeing Potter nearly decapitated had gotten him all worked up in the right way. "Too bad she's in class," he muttered as he turned towards the greenhouse. "Pity to have to drag her out of Herbology…"

Yep, he thought. Today's going to be a good day