~1.5k based on the passage above
Seamus Finnigan woke in a cold sweat, his legs caught in the bedspread and his eyes shot open with the force of escaping the nightmare he had been facing. He ought to have expected this after the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson earlier that day—the spike of fear that had shot through him even imagining what his boggart could turn into, let alone actually having to look the banshee in the eye.
The banshee had cried. Did the fact that it was only a boggart mean that it wasn’t actually signaling a death? Professor Trelawney had been predicting deaths all year, but Seamus hadn’t taken her serious. A banshee, however, was a source that he would believe without question. He’d never forget his cousin, Siobhan.
Seamus blew a hard breath out of his nose, trying to calm his erratic breathing and convince himself to go back to sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, he envisioned the scaly pale-green face framed by inky black hair, contorting its mouth impossibly wide to release and ear splitting shriek. Even with his eyes open, the pitch darkness hid everything, and the irrational part of Seamus’ brain was convinced the Banshee could even be in the shadows outside his canopy.
Seamus, you are going to be fourteen in less than two months, you have no reason to continue fearing a blasted Banshee! He thought harshly. It wasn’t necessarily the haunting appearance or the deafening screams that caused Seamus’ skin to prickle with trepidation, it was what the Banshee signaled that scared him the most. The death, the loss. He couldn’t stand to lose anyone whom he’d become close to, not his parents, or his classmates, and especially not his friends.
Of course, one person came to mind that Seamus was most anxious for, that he didn’t want to think of a world where they weren’t in his life.
He needed to get out of the bed he was in, the canopy surrounding him felt like a cage and he felt hot all over from the enclosed space. As he reached for the curtain, Seamus saw movement outside the fabric, and his breath caught in his throat. Finding his Gryffindor bravery, he ripped the curtain to the side, and instead of being met with a green-tinged woman, he came to face a soft-featured, dark-skinned boy.