.One.

The Boggart

The feral Boggart shuffled on the floor of the empty dormitory, squelching uselessly as it tried to find a purpose. Draco stared at it in his pyjamas, listening to the occupied voices downstairs. With a sudden impulse, he leapt in front of it, scraping his hair back from his face.

It began morphing into something instantly. Draco began watching in amusement yet with a deep sense off gnawing anxiety. He knew what this was going to be. He just knew. He'd tried to deny it for far too long.

The vision appeared.

Hermione lay there. Still, lifeless, dead.

He shook his head in defeat and sat down on his bed. His face crumpled as he looked at the apparation again, a sadness he had never experienced before started to settle heavily in his chest.

His deepest fear was that Hermione Granger would die. Without him in her life.

He loved her.

She'd never know.