I have always wondered what Draco Malfoy's boggart was, so I decided to put my thoughts to words.

Side note: I created the character Professor Letterman, I didn't want to use an actual J.K. Rowling character for the part

Warnings: The reason for Draco's Boggart is child abuse, so if you can't handle it, don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

An Action is Worth a Thousand Words

The clock was ticking on the old stone wall, and the hour hand nearly read that it was time to go. However, that was not the only sound in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Robes rustled as students nervously shifted their weight from foot to foot, hearts beat faster as each student drew closer to the old ornate wardrobe that stood hauntingly before them.

The wardrobe shook again, causing the student before it, Luna, to suck in a sharp breath. She nodded to Professor Letterman, who raised his wand and with a single flick, unlocked the door with a faint click.

Hermione watched with a curious eye from the back of the classroom. Her Gryffindor courage was failing her on this particular day, and she was thrilled that she wouldn't get a chance to meet her boggart formally. Now, she learned something new about each student that faced their fear, things that went unnoticed until one looked past the surface and decided that they wanted to understand the complex works of a person's mind.

And now, Luna stood before the class, wand at the ready and face set in her usual vacant expression. As the old wardrobe creaked open, agonizingly slow, a man with a similar facial structure to her own stepped out. Xenophilius Lovegood walked out, his face holding sadness and incredible age.

"Luna, I'm sorry to have to inform you that there has been an accident-" Luna didn't let the man finish his sentence. She calmly lifted her wand.

"Ridikulus!" his clothing was replaced by that of a clown's, getting a rumble of laughter from the class at the ridiculous image before from. The boggart once again retreated back into the wardrobe, it seemed to enjoy coming back into the classroom again as a different form in a flourish.

Luna was afraid of a memory; from what Hermione put together, it was of her father informing her of her mother's death.

A sudden hush filled the room at the sight of who stood next in line. No one could deny the burning curiosity of what form Draco Malfoy's boggart would take. Hermione sat forward in her chair, a million options running through her head. It could be a dementor, a werewolf, there had been plenty of those today, Lord Voldomort, or even a hippogriff. She stole a look a Harry, who sat next to her. His eyes were calculating; he was probably going to use this as black mail against the blonde.

The Professor gestured Draco to step forward. His wand was hanging by his side in his hand. Hermione knew that he heard the whispers rushing through the class, which had gathered a little closer to get a good view of the scene about to unfold. She could see his face as he walked up to stand before the wardrobe. His eyes were on the floor, and they flickered whenever a new suggestion of his boggart came up and there would be a muffled laugh. Something odd was on his face, and it resembled dread. That was the look that told her he knew what was coming, and it wasn't going to be good. Hermione felt sick knowing that people were betting off of his worst fear, and were only going to rub it in his face later. Even though she didn't hold a particular liking for the Malfoy, it was not right to hold something like this against him.

"Class, quiet down," Letterman held his hands up to pacify the growing noise. When his goal was reached, he held up his wand and unlocked the wardrobe. Breaths were held in anticipation and Draco finally looked up just as the door swung open.

Boots that Hermione could see her reflection in stepped onto floor. Icy grey eyes narrowed done and focused on Draco immediately, a look of loathing evident on his face. The unmistakable serpent head cane was held graciously in a leather gloved hand. Dark robes swept around the regal figure of Lucius Malfoy.

A gasp went through the crowd as the imposing man stood proud before the class. However, unlike Xenophilius, he did not look as if he were bearing bad news.

He looked as if he were going to bring it.

Hermione saw Draco's body go rigid as his father walked towards him, holding his stare the entire time. Draco's breathing quickened, his wand still clenched at his side but forgotten. Lucius leisurely walked until he stopped in front of his only offspring.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Hermione held her breath, waiting to see what would happen to make Draco fear his father in such a way. She got her answer sooner than she expected. The elder's hand drew back so quickly it was a blur, and before the Professor could utter a word, Lucius Malfoy's hand connected with his son's face.

The single slap reverberated in the silent room like a gun-shot. That moment of impact between father and son had much more power than what first met the eye. In that slap, a heart was broken; a tear was shed; pride was snapped; humiliation burned, red like the handprint it left on the youth's face.

His father, this man that Draco couldn't relate to, barely gifted him with a look of disgust. Disappointment marred Lucius Malfoy's face like blood on a corpse, evident and deadly.

The bell rang, marking the end of class, but that didn't seem nearly as loud as the single tear that traced down the boy's face and dropped onto the floor before the classes' eyes.

No words need be spoken in a situation such as this.

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