Boggarts, just what this class needed. Edgar understood why they had to do this. That didn't mean he had to like it. Deciding to get it over with, the Gryffindor let himself be shoved more to the front as others shuffled out of the way. By the end of all of the shuffling, he had ended up behind Miss Lestrange.
Though the image was rather disturbing, it was also slightly confusing. Which made sense in a way. Edgar didn't even know Miss Lestrange that well. How could he understand her fears? Still, he tried to not focus to much on her in case she accidently made a fool of herself. He surely didn't want to make her feel embarrassed. Hopefully he wouldn't end up being too.
He had remembered last year when he and two other students had been ambushed by a boggart. The form it was beginning to change into when it targeted him. The form of his grandfather had started to take shape the last time. But was it going to be similar to Miss Lestrange's boggart? Strange eyes, or symbolism that only he and those closest to him could understand?
Stepping up next, he watched the boggart begin to change. As it took form, Edgar started imagining funny things that could become of the man. Then the image formed into his mind. His grandfather's form was finished, a wand raised at Edgar as hatred shined in the old man's eyes.
It was as if Edgar's heart had skipped a beat. This wouldn't really happen, he told himself. Even if the old man did really hate him that much, his grandfather was not stupid enough to hurt a child. That was enough for Edgar to focus on his idea. Imagining his grandfather's body turning into a duck, but still quaking angrily. "Riddikulus."
Edgar is at level.
Though the image was rather disturbing, it was also slightly confusing. Which made sense in a way. Edgar didn't even know Miss Lestrange that well. How could he understand her fears? Still, he tried to not focus to much on her in case she accidently made a fool of herself. He surely didn't want to make her feel embarrassed. Hopefully he wouldn't end up being too.
He had remembered last year when he and two other students had been ambushed by a boggart. The form it was beginning to change into when it targeted him. The form of his grandfather had started to take shape the last time. But was it going to be similar to Miss Lestrange's boggart? Strange eyes, or symbolism that only he and those closest to him could understand?
Stepping up next, he watched the boggart begin to change. As it took form, Edgar started imagining funny things that could become of the man. Then the image formed into his mind. His grandfather's form was finished, a wand raised at Edgar as hatred shined in the old man's eyes.
It was as if Edgar's heart had skipped a beat. This wouldn't really happen, he told himself. Even if the old man did really hate him that much, his grandfather was not stupid enough to hurt a child. That was enough for Edgar to focus on his idea. Imagining his grandfather's body turning into a duck, but still quaking angrily. "Riddikulus."
Edgar is at level.
