New story about what I think Harry's boggart should have been. ENJOY!
I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!
Harry walked in line behind the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, eagerly anticipating their first lesson of the year. After his first two DADA teachers, Quirrell and Lockhart, he didn't want to get his hopes up on this guy being any good, but the way he got rid of the dementor on the train gave him a little credit. Also, the fact that they were immediately starting off with a practical lesson this year was a major plus.
Finally, after wandering through the halls, they came to a stop at an ordinary looking door. The class of third years anxiously waited to see what was inside. Just as Lupin reached for the handle, the door opened.
Harry took a step back, expecting a scary creature to come out and attack them. Suddenly, Professor Snape walked out of the room with his usual sneer. Harry sighed in relief, but couldn't help to think that Snape was pretty scary. After making a few snide remarks, the potions master made his way back down to the dungeons.
Harry and the rest of the class followed Lupin into the room, which turned out to be the staffroom. In the middle of the room sat a large wardrobe. Many of the students, including Harry, were confused. Were they supposed to be fighting a piece of furniture?
"So, does anyone know what a boggart is?" As expected, Hermione's hand flew into the air, almost hitting Ron in the face due to their close proximity. She then proceeded to rattle off a long textbook answer on how it changes into your biggest fear.
"Very good Ms. Granger."
Professor Lupin continued to tell the class how to get rid of them, and why they were considered dangerous. Harry was struck with a sense of foreboding, hoping his boggart didn't turn into what he thought it would be.
Harry tried to laugh along with the rest of the class when Neville's boggart turned into Snape wearing old lady clothes and a stuffed vulture hat, but he wasn't quite feeling in the mood.
Once the class knew how to banish the boggart, it was their turn to try it for themselves. Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione and shuffled toward the end of the line. He watched as people concoured clowns and defeated dragons. He was only two people away now, and his hands were sweating so much he almost dropped his wand.
He was next in line. He glanced over to his professor who was changing the disk out of the gramophone just as ron gave a giant spider some roller skates. He took a deep breath and stepped forward to face his boggart. The spider paused, then started to shift into Harry's biggest fear. Upon seeing his boggart, Harry paled and took a step back.
Uncle Vernon - who if possible looked ten times more intimidating than Harry remembered - was standing in front of Harry.
The boggart looked around and snarled. "What have you done to me, boy?"
"I-I'm sorry, S-sir." He whimpered.
"You're sorry? Just like you were sorry for ruining my chance at a promotion?" The boggart took a step forward, and Harry raised his arms up to protect himself.
"Sorry won't cut it. Just wait till you come back home, freak. You will never see the daylight again."
Harry shrunk back from his uncle's raised fist. Then suddenly, something clicked in his mind. Vernon never made threats in public.
Harry was reminded where he was and about the wand in his hand. He straightened his back, took a deep breath, and pointed his wand at the boggart in front of him.
"RIDDIKULUS!" He bellowed, glaring daggers at his uncle.
He watched as the boggart changed shape. His uncle's fat disappeared, and the once nice suite had turned into worn out rags, a few sizes too big. Dark circles under the boggarts eyes appeared, and Harry saw calluses on his uncle's fingers that you could only get from working hours in a garden.
Harry smirked, and turned to go to the end of the line, but stopped short when he saw the alarmed faces of his classmates.
"Who was that?"
"Potter's got an odd sense of humor."
"Did that man call Harry a freak?"
As if weights had been removed from his shoulders, Harry realized what happened. How could he do that to his uncle? He felt his knees weaken, and he was struggling to stand.
Professor Lupin nervously looked at Harry before dismissing the class. Harry quickly grabbed his bag and rushed out the door, not bothering to respond to the calls from Ron and Hermione. He ran to the nearest bathroom and locked himself in one of the stalls. He slid to the floor and clutched his knees to his chest. He couldn't believe what he had done. Now his friends will think he's loony. Not to mention how the press will react.
"Harry? Hey mate, we've been looking for you! Are you okay?"
"Of course he's not okay, Ron."
He smiled at his friends' usual banter, but sighed. He wasn't in the mood to be interrogated by Hermione at the moment.
"Hey guys. Could you please leave me alone for a while? Sorry, but I need time to think."
Harry could almost hear their faces fall through the stall door.
"Are you sure Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine Hermione."
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay."
"We'll take notes for you." Ron said.
"Thanks guys."
Harry heard their footsteps leave the bathroom.
He went back to thinking about his uncle. Would the real uncle Vernon know something was wrong? Would Dumbledore send him a letter? Harry felt a tear roll down his face, but he wiped it away and stopped any more from falling.
He heard footsteps again , but only one pair, so it was probably just someone wanting to use the loo.
"Mr. Potter?" A voice he recognized as professor Lupin's echoed around d the stone walls. Harry was tempted to ignore the man, but knew that could get him in trouble.
"Here sir." He said, as he stood up and unlocked the door. He saw the man looking at him with concern.
"Are you okay Harry?" Harry nodded.
Professor Lupin looked a little awkward before asking, "that man..." He drifted off, clearly not wanting to pry.
Harry sighed , knowing he should tell the truth. "He's my uncle."
Lupin's eyebrows raised. "Your uncle?"
Harry nodded.
"He didn't seem like a very nice fellow."
Harry geld back a snort. "He's not."
"And what you did to him?"
Harry looked down at his feet. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"Would you mind taking your glamour off." Harry's head snapped up and he stared at the man with wide eyes. "How did you know about that?"
"I can sense it. I am very sensitive to magic." When all Harry did was stare at him anxiously, he asked, "Would you like me to take it off for you?"
Harry quickly shook his head. "I'll do it." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. All of a sudden, Harry shrunk, and his face became pale. He had dark circles under his eyes like the boggart, and his already skinny form became even more so.
He still had his eyes closed, and he wicked when he heard Professor Lupin gasp. He jumped when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, but he let it stay there.
"Harry? Please look at me."
Harry obliged, and with wet eyes, he looked at his professor.
"Harry, did your uncle do this to you?" Harry nodded. "Would you like me to heal them?" Harry nodded again. Lupin rolled up Harry's sleeves as far as they would go, and started to heal the cuts and scars along his arms. Then he healed a particularly nasty cut on his cheek, and a bruise on his forehead.
"Are there more?" Lupin asked, hoping there was none.
"Yes sir. On my back and chest."
"Would you like me to heal those too?" Harry's eyes widened, and he shook his head. He didn't want anyone to see those. Professor Lupin sighed.
"Would you like to go to the Hospital wing?"
Harry was furiously shaking his head now. He really didn't want to go to the Hospital wing.
"Okay, but I want updates on how you are healing."
Harry nodded and wiped all the tears off his face.
"You also won't have to see those people ever again."
Harry looked up with hope in his eyes. "Are you sure? I won't have to go back?"
"Of course not. I will take care of you."
Harry started crying again, but out of joy not sadness. He launched himself into Remus' arms mumbling his gratitude.
"Thank you."