Why couldn't his Boggart just be a Manticore?
"Psst, here he comes," Millicent whispers excitedly the next morning.
"Help, please help! The Dementor is so scary!" Draco howls as Harry Potter crosses the Great Hall pretending to be deaf.
"Oh no, Weaselbee! I think I wet my knickers!" Accompanied by hoots of laughter, Draco lets himself fall from the bench with rolling eyes.
"Hey, Potter! Potter!" Pansy shouts. "The Dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooo!"
Someone squeezes between her and Daphne. "How I missed your humour."
"Padma!" Pansy hugs her friend and kisses her on the cheek.
Padma lowers her voice. "Have your parents worked things out?"
"They wanna try again. It'll be okay," Pansy replies. She had sent Padma a letter in a touch of sentimentality, when her parents used the word 'separation' for the first time.
"If you'd visited me, we could have talked."
Of course, so your backstabbing sister Parvati can listen in and tell everyone about the Parkinsons' marital problems.
"It's all right, trust me. Say, would you do me a favour?"
"Classes haven't even started yet, how are you going to copy homework?"
"That's not what I mean, it's about your new Prefect, Roger Davies."
"What's with him?" Padma asks, puzzled.
Pansy blushes. Yesterday, after the incident on the train, the Prefects went from compartment to compartment to calm down the students. And when Roger appeared in the doorway, with his messy brown hair and mischievous grin, it struck Pansy like lightning. And when she thinks about how he winked at her before leaving, she feels dizzy.
Roger may not come from an old family, but he's a fifth-year, Prefect and captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team after all. He would make an excellent boyfriend.
"I need you to find out if he has a girlfriend."
Padma laughs out loud, but Pansy just looks at her. "Oh, you're serious."
"Why would I joke?" Pansy asks indignantly.
"Well, the thing is ... Roger practically has his own fan club."
Pansy follows her gaze to the Ravenclaw table. There he sits, running a hand through his hair while talking to a girl, who laughs and touches his arm. Anger bubbles inside Pansy.
"Probably half the girls at Hogwarts have a crush on him. At least the half that isn't already into Cedric Diggory," Padma continues. "And even if Roger didn't happen to be Quidditch captain, he'd still be quite good looking. And I think he knows that, too."
"But maybe he's just friends with them … hey, you're on good terms with Lisa, and Lisa's brother is also a fifth-year, right? So you can find out for me."
Padma sighs. "I guess."
"Don't leave me hanging, you're my best friend," Pansy pouts, wrapping an arm around Padma's shoulder, when suddenly the clock tower's bell rings.
"Come on, best friend, we have Herbology," Padma says and drags a listless Pansy with her.
Unfortunately, Herbology hasn't gotten more exciting in their third Professor Sprout explains what to look for when harvesting puffapods, Pansy daydreams about Roger walking hand in hand with her across the courtyard, and Crabbe and Goyle start throwing dragon dung at each other. They smell so bad that Sprout takes ten house points from Slytherin and sends them out of class, so they can take a shower.
After lunch, they have Care of Magical Creatures, an elective subject chosen by all Slytherins. But if they'd known that they would not only be taught with Gryffindor, but also by that giant oaf Hagrid, they might have decided otherwise.
"Everyone gather round the fence here!" says Hagrid after leading the class to an empty paddock at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "That's it - make sure yeh can see. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"
Draco speaks up. "How?"
"Eh?" asks Hagrid, whereupon Draco takes out his Monster Book of Monsters, which he has bound shut with a rope. "How do we open our books?"
A fair question; every single student had to use magic tape, a belt, or a dog leash to keep that thing in check. What a mad idea to chose it as a textbook.
"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid asks baffled.
They all shake their heads.
"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em, look …" he says, gently running a finger along the spine of Hermione's book, which begins to shiver, then falls open and lies quiet in his hand.
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Draco sneers sarcastically. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"
"I … I thought they were funny."
"Oh, tremendously funny! Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"
"Luckily he didn't put it on his lap," Tracey whispers.
The girls giggle.
"Righ' then, so … so yeh've got yer books an' … an' …," says Hagrid confused, "now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on …"
As he leaves heading the Forest, Draco says, "God, this place is going to the dogs. That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter hisses, but Draco just grins. "Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you!"
At the same moment, Lavender screams and everyone whirls around. Hagrid returns with a horde of leashed Hippogriffs trotting towards them. Several gasps can be heard, because these creatures are classified as dangerous by the Ministry. But Hagrid calmly explains how to face a Hippogriff and then asks the students to come forward.
At first, no one moves, until Potter finally climbs over the paddock fence. "I do it."
"Welcome to the Harry Potter show," Blaise murmurs.
It's the same procedure as usual. Potter takes up a challenge (a staring contest with a Hippogriff and subsequent ride on its back), and the Gryffindors hyperventilate with excitement, admiring him for his courage and ignoring the fact, that other students pass the task as well.
Pansy waits unnoticed at the edge of the paddock, preferring not to take any risks and observing her classmates instead. Daphne tries her luck with an old-fashioned curtsy, which looks ridiculous but makes her Hippogriff bow its head. Ted, on the other hand, who bows so deeply that his nose almost touches his knees, is still viewed with suspicion.
Draco has taken over Potter's Hippogriff, which lets him pat its beak soon. "This is very easy, I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it … I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you ugly, great brute?"
Crabbe and Goyle start laughing, but they're drowned out by Draco's cry of pain - the huge claws have hit him with full force. He lies curled up on the ground. "I'm dying! I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"
Visibly shocked, Hagrid rushes over to pick him up and run back to the castle, while the long, gaping wound on Draco's arm sprinkles the grass with blood.
While the others are either defending or railing against Hagrid, Pansy stares down at the red blades of grass.
Suddenly she's six again, standing in front of the tree that her brother was literally stuck to after his accident. She blinks away her tears. "They should sack him straight away!"
"It was Malfoy's fault!" Dean Thomas replies, but lowers his head when meeting Crabbe and Goyle's glares.
Pansy just needs to get away. "I'm going to see if he's okay!" she announces, running back to the castle, too. She couldn't think of a better excuse.
A few minutes later, she pulls herself up from the girls' bathroom floor with shaky legs and leaves the toilet cabin. Her throat is burning, and she feels relieved at the same time. Not exactly the healthiest way to reduce stress, but all the more effective.
In the holidays, after a very loud quarrel between her parents, she tried it for the first time. And now she's doing it once in a while, despite her guilty feelings. But it's not a big deal really. She's in control, so there is no need for anyone to know.
At the basin, she splashes cold water on her face and wipes away the smeared mascara under her eyes, when she notices a movement behind her. The ghost of a chubby girl with thick glasses floats out of a cabin and murmurs, "You poor thing."
Pansy rolls her eyes. She knows Moaning Myrtle from hearsay, of course - ugly, snivelling and almost as annoying as Peeves. "Just an upset stomach, that's all."
Myrtle giggles like an idiot. "You can't fool me, I know girls like you very well! And you're not the first person to come here and stick your finger down your throat."
"Oh, really?" Pansy applies a fresh layer of lipstick. Then she turns to Myrtle, looking her up and down. "Would've done you no harm during your lifetime."
Myrtle's chin trembles, and Pansy quickly leaves the toilet, before it gets filled with blubbering.
Halfway to the common room, however, she realises that she needs an alibi, so she goes to the hospital wing. To her surprise, she finds Draco asleep.
"He should wake up in about half an hour," Madam Pomfrey explains, slightly annoyed. "He demanded the strongest painkillers we have. Was terribly upset. Resting is good for him now."
Since there are no other patients, Pansy is allowed to wait at Draco's bedside. As he's lying there, peaceful and snoring softly, no one would imagine that he can be quite an arse. Like last year, when he called Hermione a Mudblood several times and even wished her dead (not that Pansy would have felt sorry for her, but still).
Thank Merlin, he has quit putting gel in his hair like a toff. It has become medium long and falls casually into his face. A clear improvement, as well as his facial features, which appear less childish now.
She looks at his chunky silver ring engraved with the Malfoy family crest. Pretty snobbish. If he wasn't Draco Malfoy, she would think that's kind of cool. But he is, so she doesn't think it's cool, of course.
*.*.*.*
He feels numb, as if his head was wrapped in cotton wool. As he slowly opens his eyes, someone leans over his face.
"I - have - been - here - the - whole - time," she explains, emphasising each word. But they don't really get through to him. He is distracted by the pupils of her green eyes, which have brown rings around them. Something he never noticed before.
"Pansy?" he murmurs.
She looks at him intently. "You know, I've already got used to midget, and I wouldn't want to lose that nickname. No, seriously, did the Hippogriff hit you in the head, too?"
"What are you talking -" he starts, but suddenly his memory comes back. Just like the burning pain. He was attacked! His gaze wanders to his right arm, which is bandaged in a sling. "Hagrid will pay for this."
"Well, hopefully," she says with a gloomy expression. "I would be mad too, if my arm had to be amputated."
Panic hits him for a second, but then she starts giggling. "Relax, Pomfrey says, all you'll be left with is a scar."
"I'm going to kill that bloody bird," he growls.
"Of course you are." She gets up, takes her robes from the back of her chair and calls out to Madam Pomfrey.
Meanwhile, Draco can't help but notice some curves appearing under her shirt and pleated skirt. If she wasn't Pansy Parkinson, he would think that's kind of sexy. But she is, so he doesn't think it's sexy, of course.
"Since you are, against all expectations, not dying, I leave you alone with your plans for revenge. Enjoy the light food."
He manages a wry smile. "Get lost."
"Now repeat after me … Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus," the Slytherins say, some more, some less excited.
Draco ponders. What does he fear most in the world? He's torn between a Manticore, and the thought of being poor.
"Do you have a question, Pansy?"
Pansy lowers her hand. "Not exactly, Professor. I just don't think I can solve this task."
"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll make it together," Lupin replies with an encouraging smile, but she shakes her head.
"You don't understand, sir. I won't expect anyone to put up with the sight of my brother, who died in an accident and whose head looks like a burst watermelon. And I'm afraid, no matter how hard I try, I won't see anything funny in it."
There is an awkward silence.
Lupin nods solemnly. "I'm very sorry for your loss, and I thank you for your candour. Under these circumstances you're of course excused." He turns to the class. "Anyone who successfully conquers the Boggart earns five house points. Once you're done, you can enjoy the afternoon, but don't forget to write a summary of the Boggart chapter in your textbook by the next lesson."
Everyone, except for Pansy, lines up in front of the wardrobe in which the Boggart can be heard fidgeting. Crabbe goes first. His Boggart appears as a swarm of moths, which he turns into colourful confetti. Then Ted's horror clown's sharp teeth fall out, and Tracey lets her werewolf chase his own tail.
When it's Draco's turn and the wardrobe door opens, he's facing someone he didn't expect at all: his father. But nothing is left of his usual dignified appearance. With shadows under his eyes, a sunken, unshaved face, and tangled hair, the Boggart is just a pitiful image of Lucius Malfoy. What's truly frightening, however, is the fact that he's wearing striped pyjamas ... the typical attire of an Azkaban prisoner.
What the hell?
Although Draco grew up knowing that his father's past might eventually become his downfall, he believed he had successfully pushed that thought away over the years. And now his Boggart-father sits down on the floor, clutching his legs and rocking back and forth like an anxious child.
Someone sniggers.
"Remember," Lupin says calmly, "it's just a Boggart, a trick of your own imagination."
"Riddikulus," Draco says half-heartedly. Nothing happens. He tries again, but realises, that the idea of Lucius wearing a pillowcase like Dobby isn't funny at all.
Crabbe can no longer suppress his laughter.
"Shut up, fatso!"
Crabbe turns to Pansy, glaring. "Stupid bitch."
"Stop it!" says Lupin. "I will not tolerate insults. Pansy, Vincent, you wait outside. Five points from Slytherin."
A murmur goes through the classroom. They had already lost points when Crabbe and Goyle misbehaved in Herbology, and then again when Millicent told McGonagall, that her monster book had eaten her Transfiguration homework (which everyone could testify, but was discounted as an excuse by the old goose).
"Would you like to try again, Draco?" Lupin asks after he has forced the Boggart back into the wardrobe.
"Thanks, no need," he replies cynically and returns to the end of the line, aware of Lupin's eyes in his back. Why couldn't his Boggart just be a Manticore?