Not So Scary Owl to Join 3rd Year Only Closed

[font=times new roman]
Charlie Woodward was a rather unimpressive boy, he would say. The year started without much issue, so much so that it felt as if October had come unwarrented- suddenly and unfathomably fast. Although, he supposed, with everything going on in his mind- time would pass that way.
Unconsious steps were made towards his next period; a favourite of his. Defense. He'd hoped the lessons this year would be more interesting, and surely a boggart would be just that. Interesting. The idea of a creature which could take any form... and read into the minds of their victims? Well it wasn't exactly rainbows and unicorns; but what he wouldn't give to sit down with a book on the intricacies of it all...

That is to say, Charlie Woodward was only so much so interested in the theory of a boggart- not the actual thing. The actual idea itself scared him ridiculously so: he already hated showing fear or fright in front of people-- having it plastered out into the world for everyone to see? Was not a particularly fond idea to him.
He wondered what shape it might even take, filing into the classroom with his head in the clouds, seeing that the room had been prepared for the lesson already. Standing to the sides, he considered the obvious choices: The damned Mosp, for example, that brutally stabbed him. Or perhaps a rushing river? Not to mention his... overwhelmingly irrational fear of spiders.

The class started, not much to say on the matter other than a quick review of the spell they were meant to cast; and then they all filed in.
Snakes, Spiders (which he promptly cringed and looked away, mind you) were enough to have his guts prematurely churning. He was meant to be fearless... but that wasn't exactly happening in that moment, anticipation building as he neared the front of the line. There hadn't been too many crazy things to see thus far; but then the girl in front of him went.

Anastasia Beckett. He only knew her name because of Quidditch- and the fact that she'd replaced him on the first string. He bit down any prompted bitterness which raised in his mind, and watched as she approached the boggart-- a long and threatening silence which followed as the Boggart took in her mind- and then an image which Charlie would have rather not seen.

Dead bodies were not particularly his favourite thing in the world, is what he was trying to conclude.

The spectacle lasted quite a bit of time, although Charlie didn't blame her, really. He would freeze up too if his boggart ended up being some murderous accusation, drenched in blood and souless in their eyes- not to mention the pounding and bright lights which then surrounded the girl, as he assumed her panic set in.
He held his breath as she cast the spell finally, hoping for her sake and the class' that it was enough to stop the visually appalling enslaught that was occuring... and hoped to god his was going to be something normal, after this.

He wanted to believe he was rather unimpressive, so his boggart should be too...
[/font]

[font=times new roman] Mentioning/Interacting with @Anastasia Beckett [/font]

@Anastasia Beckett | @Charles Woodward

Bridget was dreading today's Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. This certainly wasn't normal--it was the class she valued the most, not to mention one of her favorites--but she imagined none of the third years were looking forward to facing their worst fears. A representation of those fears, at least, in the form of a boggart. She wondered what a boggart actually looked like, but supposed she'd never find out.

The moments waiting for class to begin were spent rolling her wand over in her hands and re-braiding her hair, idle movements to let out the nervous energy. She went over what she knew about the Boggart-Vanishing Spell in her head even though she was sure Professor Pendrast would remind them, anything to keep her mind off what her boggart would turn into. She was fairly certain it would be a shadow. But would it be spiders or Victor getting stabbed? Bridget didn't know which one would be worse.

All too soon she was in line, waiting for her turn against the boggart. She only half-noticed her classmates' fears, bugs and snakes and fire and mosps. For only being thirteen or fourteen, they'd seen and experienced plenty of danger.

And then she was at the front of the line. Facing the boggart, which was still the cute puppy the student in front of her had changed from a huge, ferocious dog, Bridget tightened her grip on her wand. The dog changed. She was staring at a dozen spiders, swallowing a shriek. They were larger than your normal spider and anyone paying attention woudl see they were pitch black. They were shadows, just very corporeal and very deadly. Seeing Victor get stabbed by that humanoid creature all over gain would've been dread, but this was panic. This was a fear of spiders, yes, a fear of what the shadows could do, but also a fear of pain, of death, of helplessness.

The Slytherin took an instictive step back. She should have been running, getting as far away from the spiders as she could, but this was not the Slytherin Common Room in the middle of the night. She was in a classroom, her peers watching on, and she was not about to fail. The brunette fought to keep her wand steady; the spiders were crawling towards her and her heart was racing and the blood was pounding in her ears. They weren't real. This was just a boggart. It couldn't hurt her. Not real.

She had to cast the spell. But first, she needed an outcome in mind, something funny. She'd brainstormed ways to turn her anticipated fears into something laughable beforehand, but now that she was here, laughter seemed impossible. All she could do was try, though. "Riddikulus!" The spiders exploded into clouds of glitter, raining down on the floor. Perhaps it wasn't terribly funny, but she certainly wasn't afraid of glitter.

Her heartbeat slowing, the Slytherin crossed to the edge of the classroom. She leaned against one of the pushed-aside tables, fingers gripping the edge as she waited for the adrenaline to fade. It hadn't been perfect, but she'd done it. Now all there was to do was watch the rest of her classmates face their fears.

It went much the same way as before, although Bridget could actually focus this time. It was clear she wasn't the only one terrified of spiders, anyways. Then it was Anastasia Beckett's turn. Bridget watched on, not quite sure what to think. They were hardly on good terms after their illegal duel last year, but considering they hadn't attacked each other since then, they were at least decent at ignoring each other. Bridget wondered what the girl's worst fear would be. It would be rather ironic if it was fire, what with her apparent habit of setting other people aflame, but would make sense after she was almost burnt to death at the Blossom Ball.

But the boggart did not turn into lapping flames, though Bridget wished it had. Instead, the boggart morphed into bodies and blood. A dead women cradled in the arms of a man, his finger pointing at Anastasia. Anastasia, who looked very much afraid as she backed away from the scene and shook her head. This was not something Bridget wanted to watch, so instead she stared at her shoes, trying to block out the images. The body she'd just seen. The pool of blood at the Masquerade. Victor stabbed, bleeding out, going limp. Maybe this wasn't her worst fear, but seeing all that red and those lifeless eyes was sickening. It was too easy to switch out the woman Bridget didn't know, although Anastasia surely did, with Thora or Katrina or Illowy or her family. Suprisingly, considering their past encounters, Bridget was inwardly cheering the girl on, wishing her success. Hoping the spell would work and this would be over.