Promises (Temporarily on Hiatus)

I laughed silently as Hadrian Yaxley managed to corner a rather disgruntled looking Harper. She had just asked if there was any way she could escape this commitment and the Crone (my sobriquet for Minerva) told Evelyn to come talk to me about it, but I knew the chit wouldn’t dare.

I wasn’t sure what the fat wizard was saying to the girl, but the witch turned pinker the more the man talked. I also saw Lucius hovering about them, waiting for the perfect opportunity to interject something and insinuate himself into the conversation. He no doubt wanted to “shadow” the girl, which in his mind was no doubt a euphemism for shagging. The witch became increasingly agitated as Lucius refused to meet her eyes, instead allowing them to wander across the girl’s elongated frame. A pang of some emotion that I didn’t care to dwell on hit me.

I don’t even like the girl. It’s just my natural tendency to protect my students, especially Slytherins.

However, I did become agitated when the man had the audacity to stroke her cheek like that.

I caught sight of a flash of orange hair and quickly extended my arm. As I grabbed at him, Arthur Weasley’s face was suddenly clouded by terror, but I didn’t have time to make any snide comments about his cowardice.

“See that girl over there? That’s your ‘ambassador.’ Her name’s Evelyn Harper and here’s her schedule. Go.”

The man looked perplexed, but headed towards the witch anyway.

I smirked and watch Malfoy’s face crumple in disappointment and revulsion. Harper looked quite relieved at the interruption and relaxed considerably.

Malfoy and Yaxley, however, were not quite as enthusiastic at the idea of the ginger man showing the willowy fay around and shot me nasty looks. I’d undoubtedly receive some verbal lashing by the blond wizard later, but I wouldn’t let one of my students fall into his soft, effeminate hands. I was sure of the fact that he had never performed a day of manual labour in his life.

Evelyn caught sight of me, and I crooked my finger in her direction. She scuttled over, offering the men some sort of farewell before her long legs carried her towards me. Yaxley had given up and began a search for a new thing to prey upon, but Malfoy stayed put, becoming more and more infuriated. This fact, of course, increased my enjoyment at the whole situation. Weasley said something to Lucius and he almost tore out the other man’s throat before storming off.

“You are dismissed, Miss Harper,” I informed her nonchalantly, but the girl seemed unwilling to leave.

“What is it?” I inquired. Maybe I had misjudged her view of Mr. Malfoy.

Perhaps she doesn’t want to be protected from Lucius. Perhaps she fancies him and is upset that I had assigned her Weasley. What did I care if she does? It’s none of my business.

“I don’t think Mr. Malfoy is pleased with your decision," she said, not shedding light on my numerous “maybes.”

I don’t give a damn what pleases that man.

“He wouldn’t be. I’ll deal with him. You need to go back to the dorms, since it’s passed curfew.” She was about to leave, when I stopped her, grasping her shoulder. “Are you pleased with my decision? Mr. Weasley is a respectable, genuine man, and I expect that he’ll be on his best behaviour around you.”

“He seems like a very nice person. Thank you, sir.” She looked at my hand while saying this and then turned to me. Her eyes met mine and I got the sense that she didn’t mind the gesture. Those curving lips simpered, and eyelids drooped in a mysterious way.

“Oh, and Miss Harper?” I said, attempting to remain stern.

“Yes.”

“I suggest you read Juliette when you're in the privacy of the dormitories. Surprisingly, some may not be as tolerant as I am when it comes to your taste in novels, yes?”

She was mortified and left the room without replying.

Three, two, one.

“Severus, what in the Dark Lord’s name were you thinking?”

Right on schedule.

Lucius Malfoy was standing there, arms crossed and face contorted into some sort of expression of rage. It was all rather amusing because he could hardly be considered a “formidable” man. He was twiggy to put it nicely. To put it honestly, he was very thin and a bit shorter than I was. What prevented me from losing all respect for this man was the fact that I had seen him in his Death Eater days. The man knew how to hurt, how to torture, how to kill, and I wouldn’t goad or provoke the man without just cause.

I thought of a way to put my reasoning delicately. “I will not have one of my students tempted into any inappropriate relationships.”

“As I recall, you were the one doing the tempting not some time ago.”

“Ancient history. I’ve finally grown up; it’s about time you did. Look, there’s a sweet little Hufflepuff just waiting to be deflowered.” Apparently, my interest in the safety of the students only extended to that of my own House.

Malfoy barely looked at her. “She’s fat, and I’m not interested in her. I wanted that witch… What’s her name?”

I was surprised. “I thought you knew the girl.”His mannerisms had indicated an antecedent relationship with the witch.

“She looks vaguely familiar and the name rings a bell but... all silver-tongued, cleverly woven lies; a speciality of mine as you know. Now that you’ve gone and foiled that scheme, I suppose I’ll just have to find another way.”

“There is no other way. Leave the little brat alone and go screw your wife for a change.”

“As I recall you screwed girls younger than that in you prime.”

“As I recall I was under the command of a sadistic blood-purist and firm believer in genocide. If that time in my life was my ‘prime,’ I loathe the day when I see my lowest point.”

“Oh Lucius,” McGonagall called out, just as he was about to retort. “I’d like you to meet your ‘ambassador'.”

I could tell that Lucius was starting to regret he had ever coined that ridiculous term. Lucius’s guide was a talkative little Gryffindor, not more than twelve years old. The child was clearly not intimidated by Lucius and was chatting amiably about the Forbidden Forests and all its dangers and how “you should stay out, else Filch will give you a sound lashing.”

I took the opportunity to take my leave.