Promises (Temporarily on Hiatus)

Hogsmeade weekend was absolute hell. The students acted like caged animals for the better half of the morning, pacing by the front doors and staring hungrily at the enormous aperture. The foyer had been cramped since after breakfast, more and more bodies packing in to the limited space, often crushing the younger students. Myself and the rest of the staff assigned to Hogsmeade duty were looking on disapprovingly at the compressed assemblage, but none of us dared leave the safety of our purchase to keep the peace.

My eyes sought out an ash blonde head that stuck out above the others and soon found it. Evelyn Harper was laughing and talking with a group of Slytherins. She seemed particularly keen on a particular boy; Gamp I believed his name was. Victor Gamp. And he seemed equally interested in her... which didn't at all concern me. But that didn't stop me from grinding my teeth when I saw the boy ogle at Evelyn's thrust out arse.

Just then, the bells clanged loudly and the room fell silent, allowing the twelve chimes to resonate throughout the antechamber. Minerva nodded gravely at me, and I removed my wand, muttered an incantation, and watched the chaos that ensued. Students poured out of the large aperture into the ice and sleet. The snow had stopped falling, but the layer of frost that remained was thick.

The other professors began to descend the staircase and tried to resume some semblance of order. I brought up the rear, making sure that no students lagged behind or tried to escape. Most students, fearing my wrath, didn't dare fall behind the group.

The ice crunched miserably beneath my boots. The sun blared in the sky and would soon turn the snow to slush. I loathed the thought of soaking the hem of my trousers and robe, but little could be done. I pondered for a moment where I would go for the duration of the daytrip. The Hog's Head was no longer an option; I couldn't face Aberforth. The Three Broomsticks was too loud, too crowded, and Rosmerta was obscenely forward at times. I could go to Dervish & Banges and admire their new stock of foreign instruments or perhaps pop in to Scrivenshaft's. None sounded appealing.

After pondering my ultimate destination, I noted my surroundings. My feet had brought me to the edge of the small wood that surrounded Hogsmeade and just beyond that was the Shrieking Shack. My subconscious had led me here before; I often found myself being drawn into its shadow. Mostly, I never ventured beyond the front gates.
I sulked near a tree for some time and removed a cigarette from my silver holder, took a drag, and stared at the hazy outline of the creaking old domicile. The windows were vacant, no glass remaining in the panes. The rotted wood exterior sagged desolately and the roof seemed burdened under the weight of the newly fallen snow. I flicked the cigarette onto the ground and listened to it hiss as it slowly went out. I lit another.

Quite a few tabs lay in the dingy snow before I caught sight of a group of students making their way towards the Shack. I eyed their approach warily. The group consisted of seventh year Slytherins, five of them. Of course their proximity to the Shack was highly suspicious and merit enough for two detentions each. Marjorie Rosier hung on Bulstrode's arm and a set of twins, whose names escaped me, were chatting with another lad. I noted that neither Harper nor the boy were with them. I stepped out of the shadows and marched towards the now cowering students.

"All of you, get back to Hogsmeade this instant. If I ever catch you out here again, I'll have your heads."

One of the twin’s eyes flitted over to the Shack. "Professor," she began. Marjorie promptly jabbed her elbow into the girl’s ribs. She gasped loudly and clamped her lips shut.

"Miss... Hutchinson," her name came to me in a moment of divine inspiration. "If you do not complete that thought, I will bring you and your sister before the Board of Governors. I do not think your uncle will be pleased."

The girl paled. "Evelyn and Victor are in the Shrieking Shack."

I narrowed my eyes. "Leave. All of you." They promptly fled into the forest and back to the town.

Of all the stupid, reckless things that chit could do. Now I'm forced to... save her miserable arse.

As I made my way towards the front door, the wind picked up. It was a heavy, rapacious gale that brought along with it thick, billowing clouds. The air turned quite brisk, and I wrapped my robes tightly around me. The house heaved and groaned mournfully and I noted that it leaned a couple of degrees away from the swelling gusts. I reached the first steps leading up to the veranda and paused for a few moments. It had been sometime since I'd been here.

I doubled over as piercing spasms of pain shot up my spine; these moments of suffering occurred sporadically, often brought about by remembering that night. I had made the mistake of recalling Nagini sinking her fangs into my neck, and my fingers flew involuntarily to the faint marks that still remained. I righted myself and shook my head dismissively.

I began up the stairs, each one sagging underneath my feet. The door slammed repeatedly against its frame and the wood surrounding the lock was splintered. I stepped into the leaning threshold, ducking my head to avoid hitting it on the slanted entryway. The anteroom was covered in a thick layer of grime, cracked furniture lay on the floor and the wind sliced easily through the gaps in the slatted oak walls.

As I neared the stairs, I heard the muffled drone of voices coming from above. I eyed the staircase on the qui vive for any pitfalls or perils and deemed it tentatively reliable. The ululating of the zephyr drowned out my footsteps and the griping of the wood beneath me. As I neared the top, their mumblings became louder and more distinct.

"Ugh, has it been an hour yet? I'm freezing my arse off." Harper's voice skimmed lightly along the gelid airstreams. "They really should be here by now."

I inched my way closer to the open ingress, treading softly towards the source of their voices.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon. I mean, they said they'd come and get us." This new voice belonged to Victor Gamp, the chit's co-conspirator.

I turned into the doorway and surveyed the scene bleakly. The boy was lazing about inattentively by a heap of dingy sheets, the toes of his brogues burrowed under the fabric. I swallowed thickly at the sight of their ensanguined tincture. Harper on the other hand was sitting cross legged on a derelict bench, pads of her fingers sliding along the ivory keys of a piano.

"Both of you. Here. Now." The words were not shouted, in spite of my choler, but said in my most controlled and even voice. I would not lose my temper.

Both of their heads shot up at turned to face me. Their collective expression was one of unadulterated trepidation and malaise. They exchanged glances with one another and hurriedly made their way over to me.

"Sir—" Harper began timorously.

"Do. Not. Speak." I grabbed the girl by her upper arm and the boy by his nape. "Do you know what sort of danger you've put yourself in?" I continued as we walked down the hall towards the staircase. “I expect so much more from my students, and you—” I spat the last word out mordantly—“have disappointed me beyond expression.”

I released the two from my grasp and let them go down the stairs in front of me. Our combined weight was too much for the rotted staircase, and the last step splintered beneath my foot, sending me forward into Miss Harper. I managed to catch myself on the banister, but twisted my ankle in the fall. I watched as Harper skidded onto her hands and knees, sliding along the rough wood. Gamp tried to help her up, but she brushed him off. She walked briskly over to me and dropped down on her knees. Bracing her hands on my shoulders, she pushed me up into a sitting position and frowned.

"Are you all right, Professor?"

"Fine. Just perfect," I spat. I tried putting weight on the twisted limb and sucked breath through my clenched teeth.

"Obviously not," she grumbled as her fingers lifted the hem of my trousers. "Do you think it's broken or just sprained?" She looked me in the eye for the first time since I had walked in on them.

"Sprained," I snapped. She tutted and removed her wand. "Absolutely not, Harper, you are not performing any spells on me. I can't even the fathom the sort of damage you'd do."

"Stop being foolish. I'm spectacular at charms, remember? Please, sir?" I nodded tacitly and screwed my eyes shut. "Oh stop being so dramatic. Brachium Disintorquio."

Immediately the throbbing in my ankle subsided and I could feel the swelling go down. Though I was pleased at the result, I didn’t want the witch to suppose I was indebted to her in any way. I would have done the spell myself, but I had to admit (not aloud, of course) that Evelyn’s ability possibly surpassed my own... in this particular area of expertise. She unrolled my trouser leg and placed her other hand on my knee, using it as leverage to stand up. The boy offered me his hand, but I pushed it away.

"Both of you, march," I commanded. We stepped out into the now torrential snowstorm. Trudging through the ice was difficult enough in my boots and slacks; Harper's black knit dress and stocking clad legs were no match for the sleet and wind and her thin robes did little to shield her from the cold. Her teeth chattered violently and skin pricked against the chill. Gamp offered her his coat but she rolled her eyes and pushed him away. When we reached Hogsmeade, I checked my pocket watch: half past three, which meant we had half an hour to make it back onto the grounds. Nothing was said on our peregrination, neither of them daring to plead their case. They knew their punishment was at my discretion and could range from mere detentions to possible expulsion. The wind blew my hair into my face and I pushed it off my visage distractedly.

After a good twenty minutes of stumbling and tripping through the snow, we managed to slip inside the doors before Filch shut them for the night.

"To my office," I said crisply.

"M-m-m-might we change f-f-f-first?" Harper chartered pleadingly.

I shot her a withering look, the girl's wind-flushed cheeks grew even pinker.

Gamp patted her on the shoulder, and she gave him a rather comical look (in my opinion), one that shouted quite clearly "do not touch me." What had changed between them, I didn't know. That morning they had seemed perfectly amicable, but Harper's feelings had obviously turned.

We made our way down the numerous steps that led into the dungeons and eventually to my office. The girl's teeth clacked louder than ever in the frigid drafts of the bowels of the castle. As we passed through the Slytherin common, Harper shot a desperate look at the entryway and then back at me. I pretended not to notice her pathetic imploring.

I removed the wards that I had set the previous evening and opened the door for the two drenched, miserable students and they scurried inside in the hopes of finding some source of warmth. Sadly for them, there was none to be found. As I was shutting the door, Harper performed a drying spell on herself and dutifully on her cohort.

The both moved to take their seats. “I did not say you could sit down,” I barked. The two begrudgingly straightened themselves and stared fearfully at me. “Now,” I drawled slowly. I had lost my initial ire and now intended to thoroughly enjoy this censuring. “Let us make a list of infractions the two of you make accumulated.” I took a piece of parchment from my desk and removed my quill from the inkwell. “Trespassing on private property, going past the permitted daytrip boundaries, endangering yourselves and others, engaging in lewd or sexual acts—”

“No!” Harper shrilled. “I did no such thing. That is a lie.”

“You were caught alone, in a bedroom, with a member of the opposite sex, Harper.”

“I did not engage in lewd or sexual acts with him. I wouldn’t!” Harper glared menacingly at Gamp and then me. “You should know that I’m not some... some...”

“Slut?” Gamp offered; Harper glared menacingly at the boy.

“Yes, well we’ll see... the aforementioned violations of school policy are enough to merit serious suspension, if not immediate expulsion. I will deal with you first, Gamp. Two weeks of detention with Filch, and you are suspended from all student activities, including Quidditch., until further notice"

The boy opened his mouth to say something, but decided against protesting. He knew he got off easy.

"You may go."

He left the room quickly, offering Harper a reassuring smile.

"Now to deal with you," I said quietly. Evelyn Harper stood before me, cold, frightened, and miserable. Her eyes were sunken and lips had a blue cast to them. "I am thoroughly disappointed in you, Miss Harper."

"Sir—"

I held up my hand for silence, and she obeyed.

"I don't know what possessed you to do something so brash and unsound, but your behaviour is inexcusable."

"May I explain, sir?"

I breathed deeply. "If you must, but I suppose we'll have to attend to those knees first."

There were two large gashes on her knees, splinters and blood congealing on the wounds.

"I'm fine," she said quickly.

"Mmmmm, I think not. Sit; I have a poultice here somewhere."

I turned to search for the appropriate salve, but did not miss her gasp of pain as she lowered herself into the chair. I found a flask with a viscous blue substance in it and deemed it the appropriate remedy for her scraped knees. I went over and sat in the stiff wooden chair next to her.

"Will you please remove those tattered leggings, Miss Harper?"

She smiled slightly. "Of course, Professor... You're not going to have me expelled, are you?"

I glared menacingly at her. "I could."

"I don't doubt that," she said distractedly as she slipped a hand up the hem of her skirt. I stared slightly taken aback as her dress crept higher up her thigh. I considered averting my eyes to somewhere more appropriate, but the sight of her creamy legs and the slim ribbon of her suspender belt was enough to fix my gaze on the brief flash of skin. If she noticed my blatant leering, she didn't let on. After untying the ribbons holding up her black stockings, she slid them down her legs, gasping as they dragged over her lacerated knees. I pulled the stopper out of the phial and poured the nostrum into my palm.

"This will hurt," I warned. I placed my hand on her knee and ground the liniment into the wound. Her knee jerked upward, but I held the joint down firmly. "Now the other." I repeated the process on the other contusion and this time she managed to stay still. I conjured up two strips of gauze and wound them tightly around the curdled emollient. I lifted myself off the ground and once again situated myself in the chair next to her.

"Thank you, sir," Harper lilted.

"Think nothing of it. Consider us even; for healing my leg, of course, not for doing something as stupid and doltish as entering the Shrieking Shack. Do not scratch!" I swatted her hand away from the bandages.

"But they itch like mad."

"Serves you right. Of all the dense things you could possibly do—"

"May I please explain, sir... Though, I fear that my explanation won't make you think very highly of me."

"You may."

Her story was long and only reaffirmed my belief that children are inherently stupid. And my loathing of the St. Rosier brat certainly increased.

"And so there it is," she concluded lamely.

"Indeed, Miss Harper." I stood up and clasped my hands behind my back. Thoughts of suitable castigations crowded my mind. The possibilities were numerous.

"Your explanation in no way exonerates you. If anything you've only affirmed my opinion that you must be easily led astray or extremely dull."

"Perhaps obstinate?"

"Perhaps..."

"Erm, well at least you know I'm not some... slut, as Victor put it."

"Really? That thought has in no way been dismissed. You've been a very ill-behaved girl, Miss Harper."

"I have."

"And you must be reprimanded."

"I must."

I strode over to her perch and circled the chair deliberately. I pulled my sleeves up past my wrists and placed my hands on her shoulders. "You trust my judgement?"

"Implicitly," she breathed. She wrung her hands and smoothed her short dress over the tops of those perfect thighs.

"Good. You will have ten detentions with me, to be served at my discretion alone. Tonight you will clean cauldrons."

The dismay on her face was comical.

"But Miss Harper," I leaned down and breathed on her neck and ear lobe before continuing, "don't you agree that by sparing the rod, I would in fact be spoiling the child?"

Evelyn Harper shut her eyes and breathed deeply. "Yes."

"I am giving you one final opportunity to end this, Miss Harper. You can go into my classroom and clean cauldrons if that is what you truly wish."

"I want this."

Those were the only three syllables necessary for me to proceed. "Please bend over the edge of my desk, Miss Harper."

She stood up and did as I instructed.