Chapter 12 – Part 2

4:05 PM, Friday 8th of September 1974 – Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom

As Antares stood in the centre of the old dusty classroom, wand in hand and a thoughtful look on his face, he wondered what he had been thinking when he had volunteered to go first against the Boggart. He didn't know what his deepest fear was, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. A strange sensation unlike any he had felt before began to grow in the pit of his stomach. If he had to describe it, he would liken it to an even mix of apprehension and excitement. Apprehension about what he was about to see, yet excitement at the prospect of finding out what he feared above all else.

"When you're ready Mr. Black" said Professor Graves from beside the violently shaking wardrobe located in the centre of the room.

Antares took a deep breath as he gripping his wand tightly, before nodding to the professor that he was ready.

The professor tapped three times upon the side of the rocking wardrobe. On the third tap, the doorhandle turned slowly, almost painstakingly so, before opening with resounding *click*.

What emerged from the wardrobe was not what he had expected to see. His parents stood before him, only they didn't look like their normal selves.

His father was dressed in his standard black robes made of Acromantula silk, and his mother looked beautiful as ever in her dark emerald dress and matching handbag. But instead of their usual stern and aloof expressions, their piercing greys that were so similar to his own, were looking down upon him with a combination of distain, and loathing.

"What have you done for this family. Nothing that's what. You walk around like you own the place but everything you have you owe to us. Without us you're nothing. No one knows who you are. No one will remember your name. Everything you have is because of us, and you think we're going to hand it all over to a nobody. Regulus deserves it more than you. He's a proper pureblood who will lead this family to greatness" snarled his mother, hatred etched on every surface of her aristocratic face.

"I should have aborted you when I had the chance. Merlin knows I only wanted two children anyway"

"You will never be worthy enough to bare the title of my forefathers. You're a disappointment to me. You're a disappointment to this family. You'll never be Lord Black as long as I'm alive" whispered his father, his grey eyes glaring down at him like he was something nasty on the bottom of his shoe.

Antares face drained of all its colour. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He tried to speak. To say that they were wrong, that he was worthy of the Black name. But for some reason his mouth and brain didn't want to work together. His eyes grew wide and his heartbeat began to speed up rapidly as the people who gave birth to him – the people he loved more than life itself - told him he was worthless. That he was unworthy to be a Black. Unworthy to be their son.

'Get a grip Antares. This isn't real. None of it is real." Antares thought to himself, 'There just Boggarts. Mother and Father love you. You know they do".

Calming down someone what as he remembered that he was in a classroom, and that none of this was actually real. Knowing that the only way he could perform the Riddikulus charm was if he could concentrate, he made to raise his Occlumency shields. He got distracted however, when his mother and father vanished from sight.

Just as fast as they had appeared, they vanished. But that wasn't the end of his torment, for in their place stood two more people he cared deeply about, his Grandfather Arcturus and his Grandmother Melania.

"Mudblood lover. Blood-traitor." hissed his Grandmother with a snarl, the expression oddly fitting on her usually kind face, "You want her don't you, that filthy redhead Mudblood that you call a friend. How dare you besmirch our lineage. How dare you defile the Most Noble and ancient House of Black by wanting to lie with a filthy animal"

"A true Black would help the Dark Lord, no stand against him, clearly you are no grandson of mine" commented his Grandfather with cold dismissal, not even bothering to look his grandson in the eyes.

If the words of his mother, father and grandmother hadn't hurt him, the words of his grandfather had. His grandfather was the one person who had saw his potential from the start, who had guided him in Magic, Politics, Women, History and Literature. It was thanks to the tutelage of his grandfather that he was the wizard he was today. To hear him say such things, and be so dismissive, hurt more than he could have possibly imagined.

Eventually they two disappeared, only to be replaced by his Aunt Cassiopeia and Uncle Marius. Then his brothers Regulus and Sirius, and half a dozen other people that were dear to his heart.

With each new appearance, Antares's broke little by little, until he was pale faced, sweating profusely and was struggling to maintain his breath. Knowing that he couldn't let his fears conquered him, Antares mustered the last of his energy.

"Ridikkulus" he roared with all his might, wanting nothing more than to make the Boggart disappear. And disappear it did, with a loud BANG and a puff of black smoke, the Boggart ceased to exist. Antares fell to his knees, his heart pounding heavily in his chest as his vision began to blur.

"Mr Black! Mr Black!" shouted Professor Graves as he rushed forward in a panic, catching his student before he hit the floor.

Turning Antares, Professor Graves sighed heavily as he saw that his student had fallen unconscious. He wasn't surprised in the least. What he had just witnessed, nobody should have to go through. He wondered what kind of home life Antares had grown up with, to be so afraid of his family.

"Don't worry Mr. Black, you're not the only one who's fears have bought them to their knees" whispered the Professor with a somewhat sad look on his face.