Merlin, I didn't even want to think about what my boggart was going to look like. Yes, I know my worst fear. But I know it looks different in every situation. And it often comes x rated.

I am afraid of love. Don't ask me why, because I'm telling you right now. You always hear about how The Boy Who Lived's parents died to save him and about how much love that must've taken. You never hear about what happened to my parents. Well why would you? They were two muggle loonies. And who cares about the blips on the radar? The tiny little misfits that screw up big time.

Yeah, I was born to two mentally ill drug addicts. But, they loved each other. That much was apparently evident. They would kill for each other. And that's what they did. Except, I think they screwed something up because when they both pulled the trigger, they left their one month old baby to fend for itself until someone caught the nasty scent coming from the Wesche's house. And that would probably take a while considering the fact that we lived in helliest part of hell. The nastiest of the slums. But, when you can't afford to pay rent and buy your drugs you live where you can, don't you?

So yeah, both my parents committed suicide. In the same second, too. Like some sick demonstration of their love and devotion to each other. But, they didn't love me. They couldn't have. I was in the room with them and was starving by the time anyone found me. A little longer and I would have been dead. And thanks to the wonderful world of magic some wizard came up with a way to pull out memories you didn't even know you had. Memories, by law of science, you shouldn't have. So thanks to this arsehole I now have to see my parents kill themselves every time I close my eyes.

But I have to get to the point. So because of their "love" and lack thereof I almost died, I grew up without parents, I grew up having to figure out why I didn't have parents, I grew up having to explain that I didn't have parents. All because my parents bloody loved each other. They loved their addictions, their drugs. And so, my entire life I've never been loved and I have never loved in return. Foster families don't give a crap about you. Neither do psychiatrists.

Okay I'm starting to sound like a really horrid person. I'm sorry. I'm not. I just haven't experienced a lot of nice in my life. I don't have a reason to love. And I really don't want to wind up like my parents. So here I stand. I'm up next, and I'm trying to figure out how to make love funny. Maybe if its x rated I can bring out my muggle knowledge and have some fun with a mysterious series of red sores.

But I don't have enough time to think; I'm up now. The boggart shifts for a good 20 seconds. Probably trying to figure out what form is best to chose. Which one will hit closest to home? The monster shapes itself into three people and I'm the only one who's scared. There is a mother, a father, and a baby. They all look so happy. The mother is cradling the baby in her arms and the father is standing with his arms around the woman from behind. They're all smiling. The boggart-people and my classmates. The whole room is reverberating with love. My breathing speeds up.

Think. THINK! I plead silently with myself. "Riddikulus!" I finally get out. The scene changes and it appears as if the baby has thrown up on the parents. The love isn't so tangible now. My breathing is now damn near hyperventilation and I don't feel like facing anyone in this room. I turn and run to the back of the room, trying to make it to the door.

But, at the end of the line there's this girl. I've never really noticed her before. But, she's got my full attention now. She's balled up in what can only be described as a fetal position. Her head is between her legs and she is rocking back and forth. I can't help but crouch down next to her and wrap my arms around her. I whisper that I know how she feels in her ear and carry her out of the room. I'm more scared then I have ever been in my life.