The Second Lie Hermione Ever Told

Hermione came screaming out of the trunk with tears washing down her face because McGonagall told her she had failed her classes? C'mon, even if Hermione hadn't gone in there knowing it was just a boggart, that's not the sort of thing that sends anyone fleeing in terror. What really happened during that DADA final? 500 words, General, PG

What...? Hermione thought, looking around at the rather small room. Must've bumped my head on the way in. Suddenly she realized that she wasn't alone. Twirling around, she found herself face-to-face with the muzzle of a tranquilizer gun.

"Woah, calm down there, it's all okay," said a man's voice from behind the weapon.

"Who...what..." Enough of this, she thought. It doesn't matter what form the boggart took, I just have to get rid of him. She raised her wand to dispel the Dark creature, but hesitated. It wouldn't hurt to find out just what it was impersonating. True, Hermione was rather uncomfortable with a gun pointed at her head, but it was just tranquilizers, and she hardly thought that tranquilizers were her greatest fear.

"Easy, now, it's okay," said the man again. "Put the stick down and everything'll be alright."

Stick?

She opened her mouth, but whether to cast the spell or to say something else entirely, she didn't know. And didn't get a chance to find out, either.

"I said put the stick down! I have authority to use force, or did you think this was just here for decoration?" He motioned to the gun, his voice suddenly harsh.

"It's not a stick, it's a wand," Hermione said, rather irritated. Her worst fear was an angry muggle with a non-deadly firearm? This was getting ridiculous.

"Of course it is," he said, somewhat mockingly. "Now put the wand down and -"

Hermione focused her eyes off the gun and took a step forward. "Rid-"

She heard the click of the trigger, the whooshing noise of the dart leaving the muzzle. She looked down, saw blood on her shirt. Suddenly white hot pain coursed through her body. She dropped her wand and nearly dropped to her feet.

"C'mon, now. You're parents are worried sick." His voice seemed to come from everywhere, tone confusing the meaning of his words. Cold concern, sweet and sickly, mocking her. She swayed.

"I just don't get you crazies." He seemed to be waiting until the drugs had a deeper hold. "I mean really. Magic? Wands? Secret societies of wizards? That's -"

"Riddikulus!" she said desperately, pointing her wandless hand at the man.

"Exactly what I was going to say," he replied. He must have thought that Hermione, with the medication in her system for a few minutes, wasn't capable of doing anything, because he put his gun down on the floor. Hermione watched as he picked up a white bundle, unhurriedly unfolding it. With a horrible jolt, she recognized it as a strait jacket.

"What d'you think you're doing?! I'm not...I'm not crazy!" she cried. The man sneered, reminding her eerily of Malfoy.

"That's what they all say, you know."

Hermione stared as the man took slow, steady steps toward her. Letting out an unearthly scream, she bolted, scrambling out of the trunk. She could feel his hand graze her ankle, and shook it off in a panic. Sobbing, she ran to where her friends were waiting. Her real, solid, not figments-of-her-imagination friends.

"Hermione, calm down! What was it?"

Or so she dearly hoped.

"It...it was McGonagall. She...she said I'd failed everything..."