Tomarry Oneshots

The Boggart of Truth

"I have decided you will all be facing Boggarts." Snape said.

"But Professor - "

"Silence, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked annoyed, and Harry couldn't fault her for it. They had already faced boggarts in their 3rd year!

"Your fears are now more advanced then they used to be, making this more challenging." Snape paused, his gaze lingering on Harry, making most of the class turn to him also. "The incantation is Riddikulus."

Snape flicked his wand, opening the trunk, and the boggart flew out, latching onto Seamus, who looked faint, before squeaking out the spell.

Harry did his best to disintegrate into the background.

What was his worst fear anyway?

Harry had no idea, which made coming up with a way to make it funny difficult.

Snape's sharp gaze sought Harry out. "Potter. Get up here."

Harry swallowed at the malice in his voice.

He hesitated, before stealing his resolve. It would probably be a dementor! Nothing that bad.

I mean a dementor was bad, but it wasn't that embarrassing.

Harry walked forward, replacing Hermione, who had just changed a failed essay into a balloon.

The boggart turned to face Harry, and he could feel it's eyes boring into him. Boggarts didn't have eyes, obviously, but he was filled with the suffocating dread of something dangerous watching him.

Nothing appeared.

Harry blinked in shock for a moment, before a voice spoke to him, in low tones, with a hissing quality. Parseltongue, Harry realised with a jolt.

".:What will you do when I'm dead, Harry Potter?:."

And then, Tom Riddle appeared, smiling sadly, with the sword of Gryffindor in his chest and blood flowing from his lips. "Well?" He asked, tilting his head.

"I d-don't know." Harry hated himself for the stutter. The world faded away.

"You know," Tom said, "And your afraid of it."

Harry stared at him. He had never thought about it before.

He had just thought everything would go back to normal, that he would settle down, in peace, and be an auror.

For the first time, he felt a nagging doubt.

Was this truly what he wanted?

Everyone had just assumed that was what was going to happen, and he had gone along with it.

The public was very fickle, it was true.

One minute they hated him, one minute they didn't.

They were only singing him praises now (and not always) because he was the one who would defeat the dark Lord.

Harry could see what would happen once it was over.

They would accuse him of being even Darker then Voldemort, for surely Harry must be more powerful if he could defeat the man?

Blood was gushing from the wound now. Tom smiled again, his eyes soft, as his knees gave in, the metal sword clanking noisily in the silent classroom. "You get it now, don't you?"

Harry choked on a sob, nodding, the world blurring. He was no longer afraid of the truth, but rather of Tom's death. "Riddikulus."

The blood disappeared, and a little black cat sat in it's place.

"Come here, tomcat." Harry murmured, the little thing purring as it leapt into his arms.

For a fleeting moment, as he turned back to his wide eyed classmates, Harry wished this wasn't just a boggart, but the real thing.