The Broken Ones || Solo Para
TAGGING → Elliott Gilbert
TIMELINE→ Tuesday, March 17th, 2023- Morning
SETTING → In the DADA classroom
SUMMARY → Elliott faces a boggart for the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment. Their biggest fear -their loved ones murdered in the coming war- ends up leaving Elliott shaken deeply shaken after the counterspell doesn’t work quite as expected, but with more resolve to fight than ever. (Written for aghprompt 14)
The first time they’d done this, back in third year when they’d studied creatures, Elliott hadn’t actually been afraid of their boggart. No, their biggest fear back then hadn’t been frightening, it had just been a life that Elliott couldn’t live. Muggle life, conformity, having everything that Elliott had valued above all else taken from them. Having everything that made Elliott themself stripped away.
It had been easy to conquer too, though. Even back then, Elliott had been in touch with who they were enough to know how to make everything okay.
Now though, life was different. Now, Elliott faced their biggest fear twice a week, in Umbra meetings. Now, Elliott had a locket around their neck with a picture of their dead best friend, and the two living ones who made life good still. Now, Elliott lived every day constantly afraid that their preparations wouldn’t be enough, that Umbra wouldn’t be enough. That no matter how hard they tried, Elliott would lose someone else before the war was over.
So this was probably a very, very bad idea.
Elliott had told Howlett as much when they’d entered the class. It had been very matter of fact, despite the nerves that they felt. It had been simple enough to look him in the eye and say straight up that their best friend had died two and a half months ago -he’d been murdered, but Elliott still had trouble saying that to all but a select few- and Elliott had a feeling what the Boggart would become.
If anyone came out of this traumatized, at least Howlett couldn’t blame Elliott for it.
And then they’d settled in to wait among the throng of other Gryffindors and the Slytherins they had DADA with, breathing in slowly. Could their meager training in Occlumency be of any use here? Could they project a different fear forward and lock the truth of what they felt behind?
The thoughts occupied Elliott’s mind as they watched their classmates go forward, and stuck close to James, taking comfort in his close proximity. Sometimes it was good to share classes with a friend. Moments like this made it that much better, because Elliott knew they’d go out of their mind without a little familiarity.
But that didn’t mean that Elliott would stand down, run away or refuse, as they moved forward, wand held aloft and hands steady. They were a Gryffindor, being brave wasn’t ignoring your fear, it was acting in spite of it. In trying, no matter what.
So wand held aloft, Elliott waited as the boggart focused it’s attention on them and Elliott focused on it completely. Maybe it would turn into the old evil -a Death Eater- or the faceless new evil that had hurt Mel and Stella, that had taken Lily, that had killed-
The thoughts stopped as the boggart’s form solidified, and Elliott had to take a step back at the sight before them. Quinn Fabray, dead, blood pooling around her body, cut open by Sectemsepra and burned by God only knew what curses. Elliott heard gasps fill the room, thought someone might have screamed, but could focus on no other thought other than the fact that Quinn had been murdered.
Quinn had been killed like Kurt had been and Elliott hadn’t been able to stop it.
The thought hurt and it made Elliott want to scream in horror, this was Elliott’s deepest fear, the subject of their nightmares come to life. They managed not to, though, managed to bite down on the reaction, to keep themself from reacting at all, at least on the surface. It was easier to shut down, they couldn’t stop their fear but they could stop the outward reaction.
“Riddikulus!”
The spell was solid, the wand motion accurate, but there was nothing in that moment that could make the situation funny. There was nothing that could make Elliott laugh.
Maybe that was why the Boggart changed forms as it did, shifting from Quinn to Amy. Amy, who was only eleven years old. Eleven years old and torn apart by curses. Amy who Elliott had chosen to keep everything a secret from, just like they had the rest of their family. And it had failed it had failed and she was dead.
“Riddikulus!”
The boggart was Unique, now. Unique who Elliott hadn’t told anything because they didn’t think she was ready. Because she wasn’t ready and Elliott wouldn’t put the burden on her until the time was right and she was dead and gone, just like Kurt had been, because Elliott hadn’t been able to tell either of them what had happened, at the end of it all.
“Riddikulus!”
James Potter. James who Elliott knew was behind them, who Elliott knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was okay and alive, but who lay before them, bleeding out on the ground and dead. Barely recognizable from the magic that had destroyed him, but dead. Dead despite all of Elliott’s promises, promises to James, to Fran to themself. They’d promised everyone they’d protect James.
The death of the people Elliott cared for most, the people Elliott cared for more than everyone else dead, murdered like Kurt had been. Taken by the war that was still just beginning, murdered by the people that Elliott hated without knowing. That was Elliott’s greatest fear.
Somehow the failure and breaking their promises, made it worse.
“Riddikulus!”
Finally, something gave, probably because James was behind them, because James was in the room and not dead. Finally the boggart didn’t take the form of another body, Elliott didn’t have to see their sister or another friend gone. They didn’t have to see one of the people they loved so, so much taken from them by a war that no one wanted to fight, but that Elliott would gladly so that they never had to see this again. Never for real.
Fireworks that sparked and cracked from James’s body from the blood that had pooled around him. Fireworks that made this not a murder, but a prank at it’s finest, even if only in the worst of ways. It wasn’t something that James would ever do, it wasn’t funny in the slightest, there was nothing that would ever be able to make Elliott laugh after the sight of what the boggart had shown them.
But it was the shock of it all. The shock of fireworks after death and blood and reality closing back in that pulled a breathless laugh from Elliott’s throat. Relief, the return to what was really going on. The fact was they were in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Howlett was watching, and James was there, and James was alive.
Amy was at home, she was safe, she’d written them two days ago. Quinn and Unique were both in class, safe, and alive. Nothing had happened to them. Almost everyone that Elliott cared for, above all else was alive and well. And they would stay that way. Elliott had to believe in that, above all else.
So it was with that thought, firm in their mind that Elliott stepped back as the next student stepped forward. Grip too tight on their wand and face a little pale, Elliott turned their attention to the scene at hand, and away from the memory of their fears.
There was no avoiding them, there was no way to deny that what Elliott feared most could so easily be a reality. But in that moment, Elliott vowed to be sure that it never would be one. They’d lost Kurt first, and now they’d seen what it looked like, to see the remaining people they loved most dead.
And as terrifying as it was, Elliott would use this to strengthen their resolve that it would never become a reality. Elliott had made a vow to themself once already, to protect everyone they loved. They’d failed once, even if it was in a situation they couldn’t control. They’d failed to protect Kurt, and the result had completely destroyed Elliott in every way.
It wouldn’t happen again.
