Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the creation of J.K. Rowling. I pray that Ms. Rowling doesn't mind my use of her chars in my own work of art.
A/N: I would really appreciate some opinions from you, the reader. What do you think of Sara and the story in general. Advice, suggestions, etc.
Chapter 12: Shackles and Chains
The inside of Filch's office was dark and sinister. He had a firm grip on my arm as he pushed the door open and shoved me inside. He followed closely, mumbling something about "after hours" and "string her up by her toes," to which I gasped. I wasn't sure what they did to kids who misbehaved here. Were such medieval forms of torture allowed on young witches?
He let go of me just inside the door and walked around a small shabby desk. On top of the desk were a few sheets of paper, mostly blank forms. I didn't pay much attention to them. My eyes were instead drawn upward, toward the ceiling. Hanging on various hooks and pegs were different types of manacles and shackles. The wall behind the desk was decorated with a large portrait of a man chained to a wooden post while he was being whipped.
He eyed me over the desk, and then followed my gaze to the painting behind him. "Mmm, yes, once I would've been allowed to flog you, stretch you, whip you….but no more. You'll have detention now. Such a poor form of punishment it is, but I have no choice. Let's see, which professor shall it be…." He paused and looked down a list of professors. I could see through the parchment that several of them had check marks next to their names, some more than others. He ran his finger down the list and paused on one that had very few check marks. "McGonagall it is."
I shook my head. "Please, sir, anyone but Professor McGonagall." I pleaded, wringing my hands in front of me.
He smiled, and wheezed. "McGonagall it is, my dear…" He gave an almost evil grin as he wrote the professor's name on a form, and then looked up. "Your name, girl." He sneered, and waited for my reply.
I hesitated, debating giving him a false name. What would happen if I lied? How would he know? I wondered, but when I tried to think of a fake name to give him I couldn't think one up on the spot. "Sara, sir, Sara Barrett." I replied, hanging my head, thinking to myself that if word got back to my parents they'd be so disappointed in me.
He wrote my name on the top of the form, folded it, and then held it up in front of me. "I'll be notifying her straight away. Off to your dormitory now, and to bed with you." He pointed toward the door.
Once the door closed behind me, Sneaker reappeared at my side. I hadn't realized he hadn't gone into the office with me. I tilted my head to the side and looked down at him. "Thanks Sneaker, for getting me in trouble." I sighed, as he chirped and started walking a bit faster. He led me back to my dormitory, but once we got there, he gave a low meow and then took off again. I hoped he didn't want me to follow him again, because I wasn't willing to get into more trouble just yet.
I walked back into my room and climbed back into the bed which had grown cold in my absence, except by the foot of it where a heating iron had recently been placed under the covers and left to warm the bed for a while. I could still feel the heat of it, but it had been removed before I returned to my room.
I wondered who had been in my room, but while I considered the possibilities, my eyes drifted closed and I fell back to sleep.
The next morning, I woke to the bell for first lessons. I yawned, thinking it was the breakfast bell, but the rush of girls in the corridor outside my room warned me otherwise. I looked out, and asked what all the rush was, and one of the sixth year Slytherin girls told me what time it was.
I dashed back into my room and pulled on my robes. When I looked at my schedule I let out a groan. Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. I threw my book into my bag, along with my quill, and note parchment.
I yawned as I ran along the corridor, hoping to make it to the transfiguration classroom on time. I was glad it was on the first floor. I slowed as I reached the right corridor. Minerva McGonagall was standing in the doorway of her classroom waiting for me. The look on her face was hard to read. Our last meeting had been….dramatic. I forced my eyes away from her, to look into the classroom instead of at her before I entered the room and moved silently to a seat at the back of the room.
I wondered for a moment if this was how my year was going to go. I had looked forward most to this class, and yet I dreaded it the most now. In all the six years since my parents had died, I had wondered what had come of my governess, and now, now I was so confused. I felt weighed down with hate and fear of the answers she could give, and yet I was stuck. I couldn't move forward without those answers, and there was absolutely no going back.
Although last class she had called all the students toward the front, today Professor McGonagall did nothing of the sort. She took note of the students in her room, checked off the attendance sheet, and then picked up a box of matches. She set them on Adrian Pucy's desk, and quietly asked him to pass them out. "To start with, we will resume our attempts to change our matches into needles. Let me see how you have progressed since our last lesson."
As the class began their transformation of the matchsticks, Professor McGonagall walked around the room quietly. I could hear the swish of her robes as she moved among the students. It got louder as she neared my desk. I tried to focus on my match, on turning it into a needle.
I held my wand in my hand, moving it in the motion we had practiced last lesson. My voice shook as she walked behind me. I could smell the perfume she wore. I remembered the scent, it smelled like Lavender. I recalled laying in bed as she read to me, breathing in her perfume. It had been comforting then, and over the years occasionally I'd think I smelled it, but Minnie had never reappeared.
I spoke the incantation that was supposed to change my match to a needle, but all that happened was my match lit, and the sudden smell of sulfur covered the scent of her perfume. She waved her wand over the match and it went out, and then she walked away. Just like she'd done six years ago when she'd left me at the orphanage.
I managed to transform my match right before the end of class. I packed my stuff back into my bag and rose to leave, hoping to get out the door without having to speak to Professor McGonagall, but she met me at the door. "We need to talk." She said, and then looked at the other students, waiting for them to file out ahead of me.
I stood beside the door, waiting for the boys to leave. Adrian hesitated in the doorway like he wanted to say something but a look from Professor McGonagall sent him on his way.
When the classroom had emptied, Minerva closed the door and locked it with a spell from her wand. "I know you," She started to say something, but I cut her off.
"No, you don't know me. Maybe if you hadn't abandoned me at that muggle orphanage you'd know me, but you don't have a clue who I am!" I said angrily.
Minerva sighed, and walked back to her desk silently. "You're right. I should've come back sooner….." She shook her head and took her glasses off, wiping them clean on her robes. She replaced them a moment later and lifted her hazel eyes to meet mine. "You have a detention to serve, I believe. While I think it would be best if you did so with another Hogwarts professor, it seems they all have plans, and the headmaster thinks….well, we disagree. You'll have your detention this Friday. We'll be doing a lot of writing, so please come prepared." She waved her hand at the locked door and I heard a faint click as the door came open. There was a queue of students outside of it waiting to start their transfiguration class.
Minerva held up a piece of paper for me. "Give this to Professor Flitwick. You'll be late. I'm…." She paused, her eyes moving from the door back to me. "Sorry." She finished, and I knew she meant it, but it did nothing to ease the anger I felt.
