The class had more or less filtered out still talking loudly of fears and boggarts.

"Mr Malfoy stay for a moment. Harry wait outside please." I requested from where I had been bent over my desk.

Draco's eyes moved between the teacher and his lackeys and then the blonde flicked his fingers at the group of pureblood's at the door signaling them to go ahead. He finished putting his books away and moved up towards me.

"Yeah?" he asked, so much of his father in the way he leaned back slightly at the hips, bright eyes trained on me. I saw Lucius in the way a sneer was always close at hand and the way he always looked like he had substantial blackmail on hand.

"You didn't get a chance to fight the boggart. Let's do that now shall we?"

Draco gives a soft snort and stands in front of the cabinet. I get ready to open the doors.

"You understand how to do this?" I ask and Malfoy shakes his head in a deprecating way.

"Of course." And there's the quiet underlying message, 'Malfoy's aren't afraid of anything' and 'this is a waste of time'. Draco takes out his wand and settles into his stance.

I fling the door open and take note Malfoy's sheer determination and anticipation. It's foolish of him to assume the darkness of terror could be fended off with heritage. The boggart is a swirling mass still and then- then its forming. Slowly at first and then all too quickly. Long legs, a tailored coat. The cane is next.

I watch Draco. He's sure, firm in the knowledge that this will be easy and then it falls apart. His eyes widen and he nearly drops his wand when his father raises the cane over his head, long silver hair swinging away from his face. Draco hits the floor and his fingers tighten but he doesn't attempt to spell away the creature and I can't take it so I jump in front of him.

"Ridikulos!" I yell and the boggart is gone and all that's left is Draco sprawled on the floor, panting and trembling. "Draco-" I say, turning.

Draco is up off the floor and across the room faster than I can grab for him. "What?" he snarls.

"Do you want to-"

"Talk about it?" Draco mocks. "About what? The fact that my father hits me? That I sleep half the time only because holding onto consciousness is too exhausting? No I don't." Draco's hand is on the handle. His words start out angry and get quieter. More self-righteous. "Malfoy's aren't weak." He sounds like he's reminding himself.

"Neither are you." I whisper but he's out the door and gone.