Beautiful Shards (A Drarry Fanfic)

Chapter 27: Classes Pt. 2

**Warning, homophobic slurs** (I hated writing that part so much)

Harry's POV– Days Past
  The false Dementor sank back into to chest, forced back by the hazy shield that was the results of my attempt at the Patronus Charm. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Lupin beaming; this was the first time I'd managed to fend off the boggart. The moment the trunk was latched shut once more, my Professor was at my side, handing me chocolate and telling me how well I'd done.
  "You're getting there much more quickly than I'd expected, Harry. Yes, quite soon I imagine you'll be able to produce your Patronus in it's true form," he praised, shoving a bar of milk chocolate in my direction. "Here, here eat this. It really does help, you know."
  I smiled and graciously accepted his offer, nibbling slightly at the edge of the candy. My mind was far away, returning to a place it offer went when I was with Remus. I dreamed of a life with my parents, where we lived in Godric's Hollow, where I grew up with my mum and my dad and my Uncle Remus, because that's what he would have been, wouldn't he? He and my dad were supposed to have been close, like brothers.
  Sensing my distance, Remus questioned, "What's on your mind, Harry? You seem far away."
  "It's just– you and my dad. You were close, weren't you?"
  "Yes, were were." He smiled wistfully. "You father and I, along with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, the four of us were thick as thieves back at Hogwarts, and even long afterwards." The bit about Black didn't escape my notice, and I made a mental note about it, but for the moment I was too focused on the current conversation.
  "I was just imaging. I was trying to picture a life, a reality, where everything could be different. Where I could have had a mum and a dad and...and an Uncle Remus. I just... I wondered is all..." I trailed off, but Remus seemed to understand what I meant. He knew.
  The man rose, going over to the window and looking out pensively over the lake. "It doesn't do to dwell on impossibilities. You know that. I find that it only makes the present more difficult and the past more painful. We have what we have now, no more, no less, and it is a great deal more than what we could have." Glancing back at him, I furrowed my brows, contemplating his words. "Do not misunderstand me Harry; I miss your parents greatly. However, living in 'what if's can only cause you more pain. Living contentedly with what you have left is what matters, in spite of whatever losses you have suffered."
––––––––——Present————–—–
  Now, standing in the same DADA classroom, facing the same tall wardrobe, I try to keep Remus's advice in mind. Be grateful for what I've got left, despite my losses. I struggle to be grateful in this moment, though, because this scene, so familiar, feels so absolutely wrong without him standing at the front, in his tattered clothes and scuffed shoes, smiling kindly. Instead there is Professor Rook who, while she seems like a wonderful person, just isn't Remus.
  I join the line of Slytherins and Ravenclaws in the center of the room, standing just behind Draco. One by one students approach the cupboard and face their worst fears, eyes wide and breath shaky. Many students come face to face with Voldemort, and several have been escorted to the Hospital Wing to recover from panic attacks. Of course the new professor expected this, and she had told everyone at the beginning of class that if they needed to skip this lesson they could, but no one seemed inclined to do so.
  In front of me, Draco was clenching and unclenching his fists, beads of sweat visible on his forehead. I whispered in his ear, attempting to reassure him.
  "You'll be fine. Remember, it's not real. It's just a boggart, and it can't hurt you or anyone else." He nodded, but I couldn't tell if I'd helped him at all.
  Soon enough he was at the front of the line, stepping forward. The cabinet rattled before bursting open, revealing–
––——————————————–

Draco's POV
  When the cupboard opened, it took enormous effort not to squeeze my eyes shut to avoid discovering what would step out. After a moment, a shape emerged.
  Before me stood, well, me. Kind of. It was me, but instead of my normal body, there was a boy covered in rolls of fat, looking like an over-filled balloon had a child with a layer cake. I had only enough time to state at the thing in front of me for a moment before it changed, and I froze in shock. Everyone else's boggarts had taken one fire and one form only. Their's had not changed.
  Next the figure looked like me including the weight, but it's eyes were cold and cruel. I could tell what this was meant to be– it was what I would be like had I followed the path that my Father and the Dark Lord had paved for me. I would be cold and cruel and bitter and spiteful and malicious. I would be like my Father.
  Then the shape began twisting and warping once more, now taking on the form of my Father. This time it spoke.
  "Draco Lucius Malfoy," he– no, it– snarled, "you are a disgrace. You are disgusting. I did not raise you to be a little faggot. You will be punished for this."
  Everything around me disappeared. I forgot about the class, the boggart, everything. My father no longer was locked up in Azkaban in my mind– he was here in front of me.
  No. No no no. He knew. How did he know? He was going to kill me. I was going to die.
  "I'm s-sorry F-Father." I had stuttered. He hated when I stuttered.
  Suddenly I doubled over and gasped in pain, clutching my abdomen. He had struck me with his staff, right in this stomach.
  "Malfoy's do not grovel in such a way. Malfoy's most certainly do not stutter." He pointed his wand a me. Not again, not again, please not again. My muscles tensed at the remembered pain, my body making it's feeble attempts at bracing itself for the blinding, white-hot agony of the Cruciatus Curse. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to come. But it never did.
  Vaguely, as if from far away, I heard a familiar voice shout "Ridikulus!" Then there was someone hovering over me, and I realized I was on the ground. Above me, Harry's face swam into view, twisted with concern.
  "What happened?" I asked dazedly, confused.
  He looked relieved when I spoke. "You fainted," Harry explained. "The boggart pointed its wand at you and you went all white and then you fainted. What was going on? No one could really tell what any of the three of your boggarts were or what they were doing. They all looked kind of hazy. Well, a couple of guys were saying they could hear what the last one said. I couldn't though."
  I froze. The guys at the front that heard what the boggart said, did they hear all of it? How much did they know? I promised to tell Harry about it later, back in our dorm. He agreed quickly and helped me up, and then class was dismissed.
  The other boy quickly set about trying to persuade me to go to the infirmary.
  "You passed out Draco! You could have hit your head. You could have a concussion or you coul–"
  "I'm perfectly fine," I exclaimed, laughing off his concerns once again. To demonstrate just how fine I was, I twirled around, my robes billowing behind me. My distraction seemed to work, as Harry was laughing and no longer fussing over me.
  Together we collected our things and  walked out of the room, heading to our dorm, since we both had a free hour next.

Author's Note: Quick question: do you guys want me to add a couple more OC's, or should I stick with canon characters? I'm fine with doing either, I'd just like to hear your opinions so I can decide. Anyways, thanks for reading and voting and commenting, all of which are GREATLY appreciated. Until next time! Bye!