Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: This fic was written in response to a challenge another of my friends set me.

1. Must contain a pairing in which the people concerned are from different generations.
2. No incest .
3. Must contain a Boggart.
4. Must contain the words "write me a story!".
5. Must contain he words "irksome" and "monstrosity".
6. One of the characters must dye their hair.
7. Must end happily.

Worst Fears.

I still worry about him sometimes. He assures me that he's happy, but occasionally, when he thinks I'm not looking, his smile falters and his eyes glaze over, and I know that he's thinking about what happened. He used to sit like that for hours, unmoving apart from his darting eyes taking in a scene only he could see, but he's getting better. Slowly. He cries in his sleep too, but not often. It hurts me to watch him when he's like that, but I don't wake him, not unless he screams. He needs to get over it, to heal, and he can only do that when alone. But I'll be there to hold him when he wakes. I have to be. I'm the only one he has left.

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7 years earlier.

"You've registered a complaint about Draco Malfoy." Lupin closed his book and gestured towards the seat opposite him. Severus ignored him and remained standing. "Well?"

"He refuses to participate in lessons, and I believe he's a disruptive influence on the rest of the class."

"Is that so? I believe you're teaching them about Boggarts this term?" Lupin nodded stiffly. "Don't you think that perhaps you should allow Mr. Malfoy to miss the practical sections of the work and to make up his grade with a written exam?" He was barely keeping his temper under control, but knew that if he allowed his anger to show he would have no chance of convincing Lupin. He was compassionate by nature, but he was also stubborn and wouldn't budge an inch in his convictions if he felt that Snape had slighted him.

"I think it would be counterproductive to show one member of the class special treatment."

"In normal circumstances I would agree with you, but I think the matter at hand requires some delicacy."

"Yes, but everyone has to face their fears. It's the only way we can get past them." Severus sat down and pulled the chair closer to Lupin, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Draco has bigger demons in his past than spiders and snakes." Lupin sensed the hostile undertones in his voice and his eyes hardened.

"I have the deepest sympathy for the boy, but I'm afraid the syllabus insists on making every child face a boggart, regardless of any extenuating circumstances." Severus stood, his lips thin and his glare poisonous.

"Well, if you insist on taking such a potentially fatal risk, I'm going to have to extract Draco from your lessons. He will study in his own time and I will tutor him, if necessary, but I will not allow you to play such a dangerous game with his mind." Lupin stood and placed his hand on Severus' arm, only to have it shaken off sullenly.

"Come now Severus. Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"Don't patronise me. You have no idea how fucked up that boy is." Lupin recoiled at his venomous tone. "He has seen more horrors than any child should have to see. More than any adult! Do not tell me that I have no right to be concerned." He turned on his heel and strode towards the door.

"What, exactly, is your relationship with the boy?" He stopped but didn't look around.

"I am his guardian. And I have every intention of making a better job of it than his biological parents."

"And your feelings for him are merely that of a concerned parent?" Severus looked over his shoulder.

"Leave it alone."

"So-"

"I said leave it alone. If you know what's good for you, you'll respect that."

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"Draco?"

"I'm in here." His voice resounded from the living room and Severus sighed in relief. He lived in fear of coming home to find that Draco wasn't there, that he'd either run away or been taken. Lupin's words about his and Draco's relationship came back to him and he silenced them. He was his guardian, nothing more.

He found Draco sitting on the settee with a dark green jumper pulled over his knees and a bowl of melted chocolate balanced on them. He raised his eyebrow and Draco grinned sheepishly, but he said nothing else. It was one of Draco's good days and he had no intention of ruining it. He was wearing black wristbands on both of his arms and Severus dearly hoped that he wasn't cutting himself. He'd been down that path himself, and would never wish it on anybody else. His darkened hair was something else which concerned Severus. Draco insisted that he'd dyed his hair black solely for fashion purposes, but Severus couldn't help but think that it had more to do with the fact that he wanted to resemble his father as little as possible.

"Lupin's not going to make me face the boggart, is he?" Draco bit his lower lip, showing the fear he hardly ever allowed out.

"Professor Lupin. No, I'm pulling you out of his lessons. You'll still be entered for the exams, but you're going to study in your own time."

"Can't you teach me?"

"I have my own lessons to teach. Although I don't know why I bother. Apart from that irksome Granger brat nobody has a clue what they're talking about. You'd think I'd asked them to write me a story, not an essay." He brushed absent-mindedly at his eye, before fixing his gaze on Draco again. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't come within a mile of that classroom." He smiled gratefully and nodded. Severus' glared at the chocolate scornfully. "Don't you want something more substantial to eat?" Draco grinned.

"I won't get it on your settee." Severus started to talk again. "Or the carpet." He frowned, before nodding briefly, irritated that Draco had misinterpreted his genuine concern for his wellbeing as genuine concern for the wellbeing of his furniture.

"Very well. I'll be in my study if you need anything. Sugar and whatnot." Draco watched him receding into the small room with a gentle smile resting on his lips. He was grateful to him for taking him in, and felt more affection and respect for him than anyone else did, but living with Severus felt like staying with a favourite uncle over the summer holidays. He kept expecting his parents to come and collect him, or a letter talking of their travels, or the feelings of grief and abandonment to disappear. It had yet to strike him that they weren't coming back, that Severus was his family now, his only family. He put the bowl on the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, bringing his head to meet them, before curling into the corner of the settee and crying himself to sleep.

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"Draco!" No answer. Severus started to panic. He'd walked around his living quarters once, and Draco was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath before sinking into the settee to think about where he might be. He was frighteningly close to panic, and knew that if he didn't calm down he would do something he'd later regret. "Where are you Draco?" He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the text book lying on the coffee table. "Of course. Damn Lupin." He scanned the room once more, before standing and sweeping from the room.

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Severus held Lupin against the wall by his throat, and one of the Gryffindors screamed. Harry asked if he should get the headmaster and Lupin said no, but ran from the room anyway.

"I told you that he was not to attend these lessons." He hissed low enough so the eagerly listening pupils couldn't hear.

"He came here of his own free will."

"Then you should've dissuaded him from staying!" Severus felt Draco's hand on his own and looked down, his grip on Lupin's neck loosening slightly.

"It's okay. I have to face it or I'll never get over it. Please let go of him." Severus' gaze flitted from Draco to Lupin, before letting go of Lupin, flinging him carelessly towards the door. His eyes flashed angrily as he surveyed the class.

"Get out. All of you." Nobody moved. "OUT!" They bolted, and Severus slammed the door after them. "You shouldn't have to face your fears before a group of nosy morons." Draco looked at the floor and mumbled his thanks. "Look at me Draco. Are you sure about this?" Draco nodded. "Fine. I'll be right here." He flung open the wardrobe and the boggart floated out, then he stood back and watched the scene unfold.

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Draco knew that his father had a bad temper. He'd heard the arguments, his mother's screams. He'd seen the bruises and cuts. But never before had he witnessed the extent of his father's anger.

Neither Narcissa nor Lucius had seen Draco in the library. He wasn't supposed to be there. He had his own library, but he much preferred this one, probably because it was out of bounds, and Malfoys don't like to be told what they can and can't do. He hid in a darkened corner when he heard his parents come in. Their argument didn't last long. It ended when Lucius hit Narcissa. Draco cringed, but was too scared to do anything. Later, he thought that if he'd acted then, if he'd stood up and stopped his father, that everything could've been avoided. But how was he to know then that Lucius wouldn't stop hitting her? How was he to know that this was the time he'd go too far? How was he to know that, by the time the sky had started to darken, his mother's screams would cease and her breathing fail?

Lucius gazed out of the window with his back to his wife as she died in a pool of her own blood, his hands joined behind his back. Draco whimpered and they both saw him crouching in the dark. Lucius whispered his name and gently drew him from his hiding place, before leading him from the room. The last Draco saw of his mother was her dying eyes begging Lucius to leave her child alone, and pleading Draco to run.

Severus found them both in the woods surrounding their house. There were marks around Draco's neck where Lucius had tried to strangle him, but, regardless of the monstrosity he'd committed, he couldn't bring himself to kill his own son. Lucius hung from a tree, his feet dangling mere inches from the ground. Draco could've probably saved his father, had he wanted to. But he didn't. Not out of malice or anger. He let his father die because he was a frightened, confused thirteen year old and he didn't know what to do, so he did nothing. Severus thought that, had he been in the same position, he'd have done exactly the same, but his reasoning would not have been so excusable.

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Severus only stepped in when he knew that Draco could do nothing to stop the Boggart. At the sight of Severus, the boggart transformed into a mirror. The reflection was definitely that of Severus, but something about it wasn't quite right. It took Draco a moment to realise that what he was seeing was how Severus viewed himself. His worst features were exemplified, whereas his more handsome characteristics were dull and unnoticed compared to them. Severus muttered 'riddikulus' and the mirror melted, becoming a silver puddle on the floor. By the time Severus had managed to dispel the boggart back into the wardrobe, Draco was crouched against the wall, his head in his hands. Severus slid onto the floor beside him, putting his arm, somewhat awkwardly, around his shoulders. He didn't say anything, knowing that if Draco wanted to talk, he would have no need to encourage him.

"Sometimes I think I'm okay. Sometimes I can wake up on a morning and I'll want to get out of bed and get on with my life, I'll want to hang out with my friends and go to lessons. And I'll think that I'm starting to heal and that soon it won't hurt anymore. But it does. I can have a great day, and I can be happy for a few hours, but then, when I'm alone, all the good feelings go away and I'm left with nothing, and all I can do is curl up and wait for it to go away. It's like… like a dark cloud. It fills my head and all I can think about is death, and that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to die. I still see her sometimes, when it's dark. I see her looking at me, and she's so disappointed and betrayed. And all I can think of is why didn't I stop him? Because I could've. I could've helped her." He dissolved into tears, and Severus held him, rocking slightly. He offered no words of comfort or condolence, for there were none. Draco was still a child, and yet he'd seen his mother beaten to death and his father's swinging body; he'd seen slender fingers wrapped around his neck and swollen bruises mocking him that he still lived; he'd seen the eyes of the woman he respected and worshipped as they took in the gathering darkness and blamed himself that she wouldn't live to see the sun rise. And no amount of words would change that.

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We take a walk across the beach as the sun sets on our three year anniversary. It seems like such a long time ago that we went on our first date. It wasn't so different from all the other times we'd gone for a meal, or to see a film, or just wandered aimlessly around Hogsmeade, but it felt different. Our conversation was a little more strained, both of us scared of offending the other. I felt more self-conscious, wary of Draco's eyes on me. The smallest touch of our arms as we walked side by side made him smile like a third year Hufflepuff, until I couldn't resist entwining my fingers in his to see him struggle to contain his smile and remain nonchalant, although his blush gave him away. Most people are disgusted that I could love someone twenty years my junior, but luckily those people mean nothing to me. In fact, there is only one person who means anything to me, and that person doesn't care about age difference or looks or money. He's had a lot taken away from him. Too much. And because of that, I doubt he'll let me go regardless of what others say or think. He can't. He's the only one I have left.