Monster in Hiding

Your greatest fear...need not come out of the closet. It has already taken hold.

By faint candlelight, you sit at your desk, your gaze alternating between some blank parchment on one side of your desk and a deadline set out by the Daily Prophet on the other. "Chudley Cannons score win over Puddlemere United-get to it!" Granted, it's a bit more eloquent than that (there's a "now" in the sentence) but you get the point. Ginerva 'Ginny" Potter-former player for the Holyhead Harpies, now quidditch correspondence for Wizarding Britain's premier newspaper (according to the newspaper itself). And as you stare at your desk, as you finger your quill and wonder whether you should try out one of those Muggle pens your dad recently got his hands on, you realize that you don't have the foggiest idea how to structure your article. How does one do justice to such a momentous occasion. Certainly Ron might know...but while fans are capable of a lot of things, being objective isn't one of them.

Clunk...clunk...

Oh no...

Not now. Not of all times. Not when you're in a temporary apartment in London while Harry is away at an International Aurors Conference. Not when you haven't used the required charm since third grade. Not when you haven't got the foggiest idea how to make your greatest fear less frightening, or when you don't even know what it is anymore. Not when

Clunk...clunk...

...when there's a boggart in the wardrobe. And it's determined to get out.

Does he know you're alone, you wonder, as you tentatively pick up your wand? Does he know that you're tired, and not in the right state of mind to banish him? Does he know that deadline is in four hours, and you haven't written a single bloody word? Does he...wait...are boggarts even distinctly male?

Clunk...clunk...Clunk!

Guess you'll find out.

"Ri...ri...ridikulus..." you stammer, your faint words having an even fainter effect on the horrific form the boggart has taken. What could possibly make such horror humorous? How could one stand against such torture? Why, out of all your fears, did it have to take this form? You fight against it, you struggle against it, but within moments, the boggart has won. Your greatest fear has taken hold.

You, Ginerva Weasley Potter, have writer's block.