*If you were worried, I don't plan on pairing Clara with Draco. (That even sounds weird.) However, there will be some romance. I don't really like romance-ey stuff, but it's a little necessary for the story.

John hadn't gone to the Great Hall in days. He had rarely spoken to anybody, except Clara. She was the one who actually kept him fed and alive.

So far, John hadn't really encountered anything on the mysterious blue box. There was something about werewolves and the Muggle queen, but nothing else. John bit his lip in frustration. Clara came to him on Thursday morning.

"John, you need to get out of here," she said sternly.

John had basically been spending all his free time in the common room, or in his dorm. John sighed.

"Clara, you know that I need to find out what this all means!" He gestured to his notes he had written on the topic.

Clara put her hands on her hips. "Come on, just for today. It isn't healthy staying cooped up in one place for a long time!"

"No!"

Clara rolled her eyes. "John, you will come, whether I have to drag you out or not."

John shrugged, and got up. He caught Clara in a moment of surprise.

"What?" he asked.

Clara shook her head. "I didn't know you were so easily persuaded."

John smirked. "Me either. Add that to the Clara Superpower List: Can make John do anything without many issues."

Clara smiled, and walked with John to the Great Hall. John followed Clara, who sat next to Ginger. Ginger gave a shy smile in John's direction.

John looked at the food selection, oatmeal (gag), toast (ugh…), bacon (those poor piggys), and… Cereal!

John grabbed the banana flavoured cereal with glee, and poured into his bowl. He didn't put in the proper ratio of milk to cereal. It was just a soggy, but delicious mess.

Clara sent John a look of disgust, to which John responded, "You wanted me out, right?" Clara pressed her lips into a firm line. She rolled her eyes, and continued buttering her bread.

The three students remained sitting at the table for a long time. John just didn't know when it was socially correct to leave. He sighed in exasperation.

At last though, Clara got up. "Let's go," she said.

Ginger nodded, and John followed her. He quickly left them though, because he had potions in a few minutes. Potions was one of John's favourite classes. He didn't know why, though.

John ran to the classroom in the dungeons, since he knew he was going to be late if he didn't. He ended up getting there right before the bell, so he was safe, at least for now.

John decided to sit where Harry and Ron had decided to sit, mainly because, he hated everyone else.

John didn't talk to them, and they didn't attempt to converse with him either. John was sure though, that they kept stealing glances at him. Trying to figure out what was so off about him, probably.

Mid-class, Malfoy strode in, arm bound in bandages and in a sling. John bit down a rather nasty comment. Snape didn't seem to have an issue with the tardy Malfoy. To John's horror, Malfoy joined John, Harry, and Ron at their table.

"Sir!" Malfoy called, "I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots because of my arm-"

Snape didn't even look up. "Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him."

"There's nothing wrong with your arm!" Ron hissed at Malfoy, who smirked.

"You heard professor Snape," Malfoy mocked, "cut up the roots."

Ron grabbed a knife, and began to attack the roots by cutting them recklessly.

"Professor!" Malfoy said, in a faked voice. "Weasley is mutilating my roots, sir."

Snape approached their table and his mouth turned at the corners when he noticed Ron's original roots.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"Sir!"

John had noticed that Ron had spent a long time cutting up his roots into perfect, symmetrical sizes. John looked at his own, which were done in about five minutes and looked just as good. John smirked to himself silently.

"And sir," Malfoy added. "I'll need my Shrivelfig skinned."

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," Snape said, with a cruel 'smile'.

John went back to work on his potion. He noticed that Harry and Ron had gone silent. After a couple minutes, Malfoy broke the silence.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" He said in a laugh-whisper.

John had been there, silently laughing that day when Malfoy had been 'attacked' by the hippogriff, Buckbeak. It was what landed him in the hospital wing. However, Hagrid had been the instructor that day, so it was technically his fault a students was harmed.

"None of your business!" Ron shot back.

"Won't be teaching much longer…" Malfoy taunted. "Father isn't very happy about my injury…"

"Keep talking, and I'll give a real injury," Ron snarled.

John smiled into his work. Ron was so clueless.

"... He's complained to the school governors and the Ministry. He's got a lot of influence," Malfoy let out a sigh. "Oh, who knows whether my arm will ever be the same again?"

"It'll become shitty as hell, instead of shitty as all hell, like it right now?" John muttered under his breath.

Malfoy glared at him, but John ignored it. He continued working, remember, education first.

"You're strange, you know," Malfoy confirmed.

"Haven't heard that one before…"

Malfoy eyes him even more. "You know, I have memorised the name of every single prominent Pureblood-"

"Emphasis on prominent," John said.

Malfoy chuckled. "That's what you get for being a Blood Traitor, nothing."

"At least I'm not you."

Harry and Ron snickered.

"You wish you were me, Smith."

"No, I really don't."

They were interrupted, however, by Snape having an outburst against Neville Longbottom. Trypical.

The rest of class went by uneventfully, except for the end where Snape removed five points from Gryffindor because Hermione helped out Longbottom. John didn't really care about House Points, though.

John was slightly out of breath when he reached Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Next year, he would not be taking so many courses. It was too much work, and the hourglass wasn't really much help for the tiredness.

Right at the beginning of the lesson though, John knew it would be worth it.

The newby professor, Lupin walked into the classroom and grinned. "No need for your books. Today, we'll start off with a practical lesson. Just your wands, please."

Eventually, Lupin lead them to an empty corridor, and then another one, and then- They stopped a the staffroom, which was empty except for one teacher, Snpe.

Lupin was just about to close the door when Snape snarled, "Leave it, I don't want to watch these disappointments."

Lupin smiled again. "Ok, then class. First off, I want to know: What do you know of Boggarts?"

Hermione instantly raised her hand. Of course, John knew. He was just too lazy to raise his hand.

Hermione being the only one with her hand up, was obviously chosen. "It's a shape-shifter. It takes the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

John frowned, and raised his hand.

"Yes?" Lupin called.

John wasn't used to asking questions. "Uh, sir? Um, does the Boggart show a person's true fear, or what scares us the most?"

Lupin cocked an eyebrow. "I don't see what the difference is Mr.-"
"Smith, sir," John was gaining his confidence. "You see, I could be scared of "A" at this moment, but my true fear could be "B".

Lupin nodded. "Ah, I see. I think, that there are rare cases in this class where it will not be "B."

John frowned, but nodded.

Lupin continued on with his class, even Harry answered a question.

At last, came the practical bit. After learning the spell "Riddikulus," they were to attempt it on a Boggart. John had a pretty good idea on what it would be, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Neville went first, his Boggart turned into professor Snape (John thought that was the stupidest fear ever). But after muttering the spell, "Riddikulus" Snape was suddenly dressed in old, grandma clothing, and was clutching a red purse.

Everyone laughed, except John. It seemed kind of stupid.

A girl, Parvati, was next up. Her Boggart turned into a mummy, and John bit the insides of his mouth.

Seamus was up after her, and his Boggart dissolved into an ugly banshee. Though, every banshee was ugly.

Dean had some trouble with his, but he got it in the end. Ron was next, and his turned into a large, hairy spider.

"Riddikulus" Ron cried, and its legs disappeared.

Lupin eyed the class. He glanced at John, and his hearts stopped. Wait, what?

"Mr. Smith! You haven't gone!"

John shrugged. "Neither has Harry."

Lupin considered him, but continued, "Come on!"

John sighed, and went to the front of the class, next to Lupin.

Lupin whispered, "What do you think your Boggart will be?"

John stepped back from the teacher. "A Dementor," he said silently.

Professor Lupin seemed dumbfounded for a moment. "Perhaps you shouldn't-"

John shook his head. "I'm going to have to face it one day, aren't I? Might as well start learning."

Lupin looked like he was going to object, but it was too late. John jumped in front of the legless spider.

Crack!

The Boggart changed its shape, but it wasn't a Dementor… It was a sort of… doorway…

John stared at it for a bit. He was confused. He looked right into it, and it looked right into him. John felt a pain in his gut, and he lurched forward, clutching his stomach.

Lupin leapt in front of him, but the Boggart didn't change. It remained there, colours swirling, changing in a million ways… It was Time, John realized. John was acred of… Time? But this wasn't right. John wasn't scared of time, it was the sheer knowledge and power of Time that scared him.

Professor Lupin was yelling something, but John couldn't hear it. All he felt was the pain of millions of years washing over him. He had to look away, he had to… He was going to go mad…

Some instinct kicked in, Run.

And John ran. He bolted out of the staff room and into the hallway. He didn't know where he was going, he just had to run. And never stop.