"Good afternoon, Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands…"

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class stared in slight (in some cases, obvious) fear at the wardrobe situated in the back of the staffroom, which happened to be rattling and shaking rather ominously. (Neville Longbottom, who happened to know what was causing the shaking, was torn between bolting and having detention, or staying and having to deal with...well, a certain Professor.)

Leaning against the far wall, Cross Marian, General of the Black Order, idly stood by. Arms crossed, he was only half listening to the teacher, Professor Remus J. Lupin, explain exactly WHAT was in said wardrobe to the students who didn't know.

"...A boggart…"

Cross was more focused on his barely hidden annoyance at the rather odd scouting mission he and his apprentice had been sent on. What, he wondered, could be so important about some dingy, drafty, Scotland school...even if it taught magic?
Said "magic" being a joke to Cross. HE was the real Sorcerer here, not these stick waving fools...although he did have a grudging respect for the Headmaster...Dumbledore, if he remembered correctly.

Anyway...back to the root of Cross's displeasure: He had much more important business to take care of, thank you very much! (His apprentice just didn't understand the importance of woman and fine wine...much to Cross's despair and displeasure…neither did anyone else for that matter.)

As if sensing his Master's thoughts, one Allen Walker began shivering where he stood with the students, missing a rather crucial detail of the boggart's natural defense (as explained by Hermione Granger) as his thoughts turned away from the lesson. (And went instead to a place so dark that no one should ever be subjected to it. He even began to mutter quietly to himself.)

"...Shape-shifter...shape of...frighten us most…"

A stuttering and fully terrified cry of "R-r-riddikulus!" and a sudden loud CRACK-not unlike a whip-jerked Allen back to reality, (Much to the relief of the surrounding students, who'd edged away from him with rather disturbed expressions at his sudden dark aura and muttering. Several would later swear they saw horns grow from the boy's white hair.) and he looked up to see….Professor Snape. In a dress...with a handbag…and a rather revolting hat.

Allen narrowly avoided choking on the laughter as it rushed from his throat. He heard the unchecked roars of his Master off to the side, who just so happened to despise Snape.

(Several students gave the long-haired General somewhat alarmed looks, many already thought, no, KNEW the man was crazy.)

Then the greasy haired Professor was gone, replaced by a shambling mummy as a girl named Parvati gracefully moved to the front of the line. A second sounding of "Riddikulus!" and the mummy's head rolled to a stop at her feet, still moaning as its body groped about for its lost top.

"Seamus!" called Lupin. A Banshee whirled into being, her eerie shriek raising the hair on the back of everyone's necks. "Riddikulus!"...she seemed to choke as her glowing green eyes bulged, slimy hands rising to clutch at her throat, which could only produce a rasping cry. The banshee had lost her voice.
Suddenly she seemed to swirl and shrink, and a rat emerged within the space of a few seconds, chasing its own tail. Next came a rattlesnake, writhing and hissing, then a single bloody eyeball, which flicked back and forth every moment or two to stare at a different student.

"It's confused! We're getting there! Dean!" Lupin's voice rose again. The eyeball became a severed hand, scuttling like a crab, intent on the aforementioned boy. "Riddikulus!" Dean shouted, and the hand was caught with a snap in a mousetrap, fingers writhing and clutching as it tried to free itself.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!" Lupin called out with a pleased tone. Ron however, was not so pleased, shrinking at his name, but sidling forward anyway.

Quite a few people screamed as the boggart took the shape of the freckled redhead's fear. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in bristling hair advanced on Ron, pincers clicking rather menacingly. "Riddikulus!" Ron bellowed. The spider rolled across the floor, screeching and helpless as its legs vanished. Allen had only a few moments to pity it before it came to a stop...at his feet.

The spider vanished in a whirl of grays and browns, and in the sparse few seconds Allen had before the reformation of the boggart, he panicked silently...he didn't want his fears showcased. (He may have, ah...MISSED that part of the lesson, but it hadn't taken Allen too long to figure out the shape-shifting creature's ability.)

Allen didn't have time to move though, as the boggart rose on two feet before him. False human lips parted, exposing white teeth in an almost feral, ever-growing grin.

Allen and Cross (Who'd become alert the moment the boggart fell before Allen) went completely still.

The class and teacher were confused, to say the least, by what seemed to be Allen's fear.

It was...himself. Only, his normally ivory skin was deep grey, and his liquid mercury eyes were molten gold. Seven bloody crosses split the skin of "Allen's" forehead. He was shirtless as well, revealing a massive scar stretching from shoulder to stomach, mirrored on "Allen's" back, an echo of a past impalement. (Horrified students shot glances at Allen, wondering if that terrible scar was hidden beneath his strange clothes.)

But what really made the students shiver was the grin. Insane and cruel, stretching almost to "Allen's" ears, far too wide to be human.

Allen stared at...himself, for a moment. Then, suddenly, "Allen" spasmed...and the class screamed, moving back in unison.

Grey skin split...and a black skeleton burst from the discarded shell, bladed arms raised high as it screamed, mournful and wrathful in the same keening voice. "ALLEN! HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME AN AKUMA?!"

Allen was shaking now, eyes wide and face pale as he stared at the skeleton, a name slipping from his trembling lips. "M-Mana…"

The skeleton cried out once more, louder than the last, "I CURSE YOU! ALLEN!" It raised its right arm again, poised to strike down the frozen teen, but Allen, despite the shouted warnings of several terrified students, did not contemplate the danger.

"I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...Mana…!" Tears slipped unheeded down his cheeks.

'SHIT!' Cross swore as he moved to intercept, throwing himself in-between his shocked apprentice and the manifestation of his fear. The skeleton, arm in motion, whirled away the moment the General appeared before it. Allen, still in horrified shock, fell to his knees as Cross stood tall before him, arms spread wide, staring as the boggart reformed.

It was Allen again. Bloody and eerily still, he lay on the floor in a too large pool of crimson red. Terrible wounds crisscrossed too pale skin, and his left arm was...gone. The silver eyes were half-open, but lightless and unseeing.

Cross's breath hitched as he stared at his deepest hidden fear, one he would never, never admit to harbouring, not even to himself. "A-allen…"

(Dimly, he heard several students retching-some even puking-behind him and his prone apprentice.)

Then it was Lupin's turn to distract the Boggart. It changed into an odd, silvery-white orb-Cross recognized it briefly as the full moon-before Lupin's rather lazy cry of "Riddikulus!" split the now silent room.

The boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach...and Neville leapt forward at Lupin's order to finish it off. There was split second view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville's booming "HA!" rang out, and the Boggart burst into a thousand wisps of smoke and was gone.

Cross stood stiffly for a few moments more, struggling to gather his muddled thoughts, before a single broken, rattling breath drew his attention. In one swift movement Cross whirled around, collapsed to his knees, and pulled his shaking apprentice into a strong embrace. Appearances be damned, He, Cross Marian, General of the Black Order, Womanizer, Drunkard, and cruel bastard of a Master, was concerned for his apprentice.

Professor Lupin chose to forgo continuing the class, not after what he and his students had just been witness to. (He himself was shaken.) He instead went about awarding several points and assigning homework, (as well as quickly cleaning a few...messes) before dismissing the class early.

Cross would never admit it of course, but he was grateful for the space the man gave them after.

"Brat...Calm the fuck down." Cross awkwardly patted Allen's back, trying to be at least somewhat comforting. Damn it all, he wasn't good at this sort of thing.

To Cross's relief, Allen's shaking lessened somewhat, and his breathing became less erratic.

Relief gave way to annoyance rather quickly, as was the General's nature. "Why didn't you move out of the way, huh? You could have let the boggart target someone else, that Harry kid was right behind you after all." Cross grumbled quietly to himself. "Probably that damned martyr complex of yours again..." Cross moved to release his apprentice, but the sudden weak clutching of his coat stopped him. "Relax, I wasn't going anywhere."

"Em sorry...Man-...M-Master…." Allen mumbled, head buried in Cross's shoulder. His breathing had evened out completely now, though he still trembled lightly. Cross sighed lowly, and laid his chin on the boy's white hair, unconsciously moving his hand in gentle circles on the teen's back. "Idiot apprentice…"

Almost unnoticed by Allen, a soft, humming lullaby echoed in the deepest recesses of his mind, lulling him into exhausted sleep. "Sleep...dear Nephew...sleep…" A melodic, warm voice murmured through his muddled, fading thoughts. A gentle thrum of agreement spread from Allen's left arm, but he was already too deep asleep to notice it, though his lips twitched into a small smile.

And to top it all off: Timcanpy popped from Cross's sleeve, landed on Allen's shoulder, wrapped his tail 'round his neck, and nuzzled him comfortingly.

And Cross swore quietly as he realized he would be sitting there, in the staffroom, for quite some time.

…..(And deep within Allen Walker's mind, one Neah Walker laughed rather amusedly-albeit quietly-at Cross Marian's misfortune.)

HELLO AGAIN! Well….here's the Updated version of Fears of an Exorcist and His Master!

…Not much to say about it, just that I decided comb through it and wanted to be at least a little more descriptive. Still feels rushed though...hmm...

(liketolaugh, this is for you! :) Thank you for the honest feedback!)

OH, and I kept my sad attempt at trying to write an Author's Note joke. (the underlined bit)

Dunno how Neah and Crown Clown snuck in there...Tim was planned for...OI! Neah! Crown! How the hell did you two get in?!

Neah: *innocent look on face* What was that? You say something?

Crown Clown: *Can't really answer*

….Oh never mind….Better not be smirking at me Crown... w

Haha...not sure about you readers, but I thought it was funny.

Thank you so, so much for reading this! And for the ones who read the original, please, Lemme know how this more descriptive version feels, would you? I'm gonna keep trying to improve this One-Shot!