The classroom was buzzing with nervous energy as students took turns facing the boggart. Laughter followed each transformation—spiders turned into roller skates, banshees in frilly dresses.

Then Professor Lupin called your name.

Mattheo watched from the back, relaxed. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. He wasn’t worried.

But you were shaking.

You stepped up, the wardrobe creaked open—and he stood up straight.

Because Tom stepped out.

Not young. Not innocent. Not someone you’d met once and forgotten.

Older. Harsher. That impossible, cold smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. Something twisted behind his eyes. He looked at you like he owned you.

“Still pretending?” the boggart-Tom said. “He doesn’t know what happened. What I did.”

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

“Professor—” Mattheo started, but Lupin was already casting Riddikulus.

Tom vanished in a puff of smoke and laughter never came.

Just silence.

You didn’t look at Mattheo as you left. You just walked out.

He followed you into the corridor, breath short. “What the hell was that?”

You didn’t turn around. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

He grabbed your arm, gently—but firmly. “You’re afraid of my brother.”