warnings; the description of a panic attack.
Fem reader, she/her pronouns
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There was a boggart today in class.
If you don’t know what a boggart is, consider yourself lucky, as it’s a dark creature that can take the form of your deepest darkest fear. For many students, their fears were…simple, and childish. Clowns, the dark, spiders, snakes, bugs, failing class, the works.
However, the class went silent as Tom Riddle, prefect of Slytherin and practical golden boy of Hogwarts, stepped up and…the boggart…changed.
The room filled with darkness, and Tom’s usual composure began to chip away as a chill went up everyone's spine as a sudden gaping maw of a skull appeared from the darkness, the figure cloaked in black and holding two sickles in each bony hand, its eye sockets empty with a single red dot for the pupils, a terrifying death rattle echoing in everyone's ears.
It was easy to tell who the boggart had turned into, the grim reaper…death itself.
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Your eyes widened at the sight, jaw dropping open at the horrifying vision of death itself, slowly moving to tower over Tom. Over the whisper of students, you could hear Tom’s breathing pick up, and his hands began to shake.
Then suddenly the clatter of a wand echoed, and Tom bolted, his face pale and eyes wide with…pure terror and panic. The professor quickly cast the charm to banish the boggart back into the wardrobe and attempted to go find Tom, but the terrified teen disappeared quickly.
You crept over and gently picked up Tom’s fallen wand, before also grabbing his bag by the door and leaving the classroom to go find Tom.
It didn’t take long, a few turns down the halls and you found him collapsed against the wall, hand to his chest, eyes wide as he breathed quickly and shallowly. “Tom, Tom,” you said softly, rushing to his side and kneeling next to him, resting your hand on his chest-his heart was beating so fast-getting quicker by the second-and he didn’t respond to you saying his name.
“Tom-Tom-what’s wrong?”
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Tom could hardly breathe, his chest was so tight, and his heart was in his ears-feeling like it could burst out of his chest, his head pounding so hard he thought it might explode. His vision was so unconfused that he barely realized someone was in front of him.
He snapped his eyes shut, his heart beating faster and faster as panic and fear bolted painfully through his whole body, his chest hurting as he clenched his jaw and gasped for breath. The boggart had forced every fear he kept hidden to the surface, every memory of the ground shaking from the bombs, of every drop of his blood spilled from scrapes and cuts, the memory of learning what happened to his mother.
The imagery of death was something that haunted him, reminding him of his mortality, reminding him of his ultimate goal of immortality, and reminding him of his fear.
He felt he might pass out, his ears ringing, his chest getting tighter, his heart beating so hard and fast it was like he would die.
He felt a sudden weight on top of his chest, arms wrapping around him, a head over his heart, suddenly grounding him. He usually would’ve shoved whoever was touching him off-he hated being touched-but he didn’t exactly have a clear mind and…it was helping. He felt his mind begin to clear, his breathing slowly evening out, his heart slowing back down. It took a minute or two, but eventually, his ears stopped ringing, and his head stopped pounding.
He took a slow deep breath and opened his eyes, his blurry vision clearing, and he looked down, seeing one (y/n) (l/n) laying on him, her eyes screwed shut as she hugged him tight, using her weight and grip to ground him from his panic attack.
He cleared his throat a bit and she scrambled off him, curling her legs up as she hit the nearby pillar and stared at him. He stared back. After a few moments, she cleared her throat and spoke. “Are…are you okay?” she asked, and Tom nodded, bringing his legs in and standing up, noticing the bag he left in the classroom was on the floor next to him.
“Yeah…” he murmured, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He glanced down at her, his eyes shifting to the side. “Uh…thanks.” (y/n) nodded, handing him his wand before he turned to leave.
“Anytime,” she said softly in return, watching him stalk away as she continued to sit on the floor.
-end-