Boggarts and Invisible Enemies

                                    

                                          
There is nothing scary about the ocean. There is nothing scary about the ocean. There is nothing scary about the ocean. There is nothing scary about the ocean. There is nothing scary about the ocean. 
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
It's so dark that I can't see. The class is drowned out by the continuous lapping of the water against my eardrums. My hands are shaking. My wand feels fruitless and flimsy between my fingers. It's going to drown me. 
Sapphire blue, shining like the blade of a sword, shimmering like a cauldron of freshly brewed poison; relentless, fearsome, unbeatable-
"Riddikulus!" I shout, finally finding the strength to speak. There is a shiver in my voice and sweat beading across my skin, I'm hot and cold at the same time, my heart is beating so fast - too fast - and it hasn't disappeared, hasn't so much as shuddered. "Riddikulus!" I yell again, more desperate – my voice hoarse.
Why isn't it working? 
"Remember to think of something funny," comes a clear voice from somewhere to my right. My head is spinning – something funny – something funny- "Use the humour to beat the boggart, then say very clearly again Riddikulus!"
'This class is ridiculous' is what Draco muttered earlier, it made me laugh so hard I saw stars. Then there was his pink cheeks and charmed smirk... silver, silver eyes – my best friend – laughing-
"Riddikulus!" 
The daunting ocean finally muted, freezing into nothing more than a glass pane which shattered into a thousand pieces at my feet. I sighed, nearly choking on the relief.
"Well done," says Professor Lupin calmly – a lean man who looks as though he should be young, but the wrinkles in his face and the grey sprouting amongst his scraggy hair try to tell me otherwise – his clothing too, could do with a spruce up, the bottom of his robes are moth-eaten and torn – the lapel of his white shirt yellowing. "Although, perhaps next time you will have your conversations outside of the class and not during my teaching," he adds.
God, I wish I had done. 
His brown eyes appraise me as I tread carefully back to my friends at the back of the room. "Ignorance will do you no favours, Miss Selwyn."
I keep my head down until I reach the back of the room where my friends are, clenching my trembling hands into fists to keep from responding. It doesn't quite work.
A string of curses bursts from my tongue in a barely restrained hiss, "Stupid – shit-eating – smug little – know-it-all – cun-"
"Jesus, Selwyn," Blaise murmurs, leaning towards where Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and I are stood. His dark eyes are torn between humour and alarm.
I can't force a smile, nor a smirk, nor anything close. In fact, when I try, the only thing that happens is a single twitch in my upper jaw – a sight that could probably be mistaken for a snarl. 
"Shut up, Zabini," hisses Draco, noticing the expression I think, and tugging me by the elbow.
His hand is warm and somehow the familiarity of it releases some of the tension and dread that had accumulated in my bones. I meet his eyes, startled by the expression on his face; it's steady, searching and charged with a ferocious intensity that I've never seen before.
"You okay?" he asks quickly, his eyes darting across my face.
And then it clicks – the sparkle in his irises, the tightness of his grip – he's worried, I've worried him. My chest squeezes strangely, heat flooding back into my blood – I think this might be the first time he's seen me so vulnerable.