Cash swallowed. He'd explained it to people, but not in a way that they could understand — that he was afraid of his father, and afraid of being like him, of the past repeating itself. Angie and Theo had both told him he could make it different, that he could love the baby, that love made a difference — but Cash was not sure that love was enough.

"Once I was afraid that my father might kill me," Cash admitted quietly. He ripped at the loose skin next to his cuticle. A bead of blood bubbled up. His boggart, Cash sometimes thought, was probably his father. He hadn't seen one since Hogwarts. He didn't know how to make Lucius funny, so that was probably lucky. "Still am."