Basil was not in the least prepared for the rattling of the wardrobe that awaited him in the next portion of the exam. This must be the N.E.W.T.s, his mind supplied unhelpfully in the background as he tightened his grip on his wand for whatever came next. For a moment, Lissington stepped just the slightest bit in front of him and Basil was startled to see the form that twisted and curdled before looming in front of them in a visual representation of… something.

It looked like Azkaban from first glance, and then Lissing in it… with strange markings all up and down his arms, something fresh being carved into one of them. Basil felt something in his stomach drop and a sick feeling threatened.

The atmosphere around them was cold now, and smelled stale as Basil noted the look that fell across Lissing’s face. He looked frozen, almost paralyzed, and the connection suddenly made sense. This was his boggart. Basil quickly shoved the red-head aside and the creature began to shift and curdle again. Before it could really take form, he blasted it backwards into the wardrobe. “Ridiculous!” What emerged was a faceless woman collapsing under the weight of a thousand blankets. It wasn’t amusing per say, but it was enough. (Still, Basil could feel the weight of asphyxiation begin to draw around him, a claw threatening to drag him into darkness - either realized or imagined he wasn’t sure.)  He blasted the boggart again with gumption.

This time the creature retreated into the wardrobe with an eerie howl and the doors clicked shut decidedly. It must have been a young one if that much spell-power had managed to send it away on its own. Basil let out a harrowing breath as the anxious feeling ebbed and he dropped his wand back to his side. “Please tell me that’s all,” he whispered towards Lissing, a bit out of breath.

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