Defense against the Dark Arts was a stupid class at the best of times. The new teacher was pretentious and favouritised Gryffindors way too much for it to be deemed professional. His name was Remus Lupin and there had been some speculation that he was a werewolf. It wouldn't have surprised Claire in the slightest; he skipped classes often enough and he just seemed that right amount of shady.
"Everybody form a line," he announced, walking over to the dusty record player. He pulled out a vinyl record, blowing off the collection of dust before putting it on the turntable. The song that began to play was just as pretentious as Lupin himself. Claire was sure he was trying to use it as a mood lightener but that didn't disguise the fact that he shouldn't have been doing this type of thing. The teacher wouldn't be able to combat everybody's boggarts and Claire had a dark thought that her particular boggart might take the form of one of the most frightening things in existence; how, then, would her classmates be safe? Draco Malfoy lingered at the back of the line with his goons and Claire avoided his gaze. She knew his attitudes towards muggleborns – particularly muggleborn Slytherins. They were a rarity so that instantly made her a big red flag and Claire didn't need any more attention than she was already getting; as top of the class in potions and muggle studies. Muggle studies was a little bit of a joke between her and her friends. She was kind of an expert in that department.
Some of the people's fears were very well-warranted. There had been a girl that feared a mirror, which Claire could totally understand. Hufflepuffs were brilliant people and sometimes, Claire felt like she belonged more in Hufflepuff than she did in Slytherin but the sorting hat was never wrong.
As she approached the closet that looked like something out of a gothic novel she'd encountered somewhere. She held her eyes open with every ounce of strength she had. The boggart transformed before her and it turned into a baroque statue, with wide incised eyes and jagged angel wings. She was an angel.
"Nobody blink!" Claire instantly exclaimed, her hand shaking as she tried to aim it at the large figure made from stone. Thump. "Riddikulus!" Claire murmured, her eyes beginning to sting from keeping her eyes open. The boggart didn't move and there was a boy, a Ravenclaw boy with dark hair, collapsed on the floor. Anxiously, Claire stood and shook her head, regretting even coming to class today. In her periphery, she could see a brown-haired witch nod at the teacher and she began to pull out a necklace. The teacher began to write something on a piece of parchment with the quill on his desk at the front of the room.
"Everybody keep calm and don't blink," the teacher told the class but he shot a wary look at Claire. "Class dismissed."