A/N: A few chapters back, I mention someone named Teresa Berenson. She
belongs to my friend, Survivorbabe (read her stuff) and I forgot to mention
that! **Whaps self** Anyhoodles, now you will know why Professor Randolph
twitches. YEAH!
When Rachel awoke the next morning, in time for class, she was given weak tea and watery oatmeal. Both with not a lot of flavor, yet easy to swallow. Rachel found she had no voice at all. Madame Pomfrey summoned some school robes for Rachel, since she could not get back to her trunk in time, and ended up having to wear a skirt. With knee-socks. Something Rachel had never done before, and had no desire to repeat. She wore pants under her uniform. Nice pants. Not boy's pants, but still, pants. And if she had to wear a skirt, it wasn't short. Not that this was a mini-skirt, but, well, Rachel wasn't crazy about her legs.
When she walked into the advanced Potions she had that day, she got whistles from Fred, George and Lee. There was nothing she could say, being as she couldn't say anything at all. Instead she smacked them with her Charms book, and hoped they learned a lesson. They didn't, and complained to each other about how there were no morals in America, and that the girls clothing there was much too provocative. Rachel was about to hit them again, but the bell rang and she left for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Ron opened his mouth to say something about her skirt as she slid in next to him. Rachel hadn't known she had been thought of as so much as a tomboy. I mean, she looked good at the ball, didn't she? People had said they didn't recognize her. Though, in retrospect, there might be a bit more underneath those words. Did it mean she wasn't really pretty? Or that she just didn't try? Or was it that she was pretty but she dressed like a boy and that no one really knew how pretty she was until she got dressed up? She was going to continue mulling over it, but then Professor Randolph slapped the chalkboard. Everyone jumped.
"Today ve vill hear a first hand account of someone vho has dealt with dark vizards."
All eyes shifted to Harry, then a few to Rachel. Few could forget the time, last year, when nearly in tears she had recounted her experience with the Crutacious curse. Afterward, she had cried, and cried, and had to miss some of transfiguration before she was calm enough to enter, but no, neither Harry nor she would be sharing their experiences.
Professor Randolph took a deep breath, and at that moment, everyone knew whose account they would be hearing.
"My mother vas a muggle, and my father vas a vizard. My mother died of cancer shortly after I vas born, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Shortly after, while I was vith relatives during a vacation, my father was killed by anti-muggle vizards who were appalled at the fact he had married one. My relatives decided they liked me enough, but not enough to keep me vith them my vhole life. I vas sent to an orphanage in Germany, for muggle-borns and half-bloods. It seemed like a good idea, yes? No. I lived there for avhile, and it vas pretty nice, it helped keep us together, because things were segregated in Germany at this time, yes? Yes. Anyvay, shortly after that is vhere my story begins." She tapped the chalkboard again and a map appeared. She gave a violent shudder and nearly fell off her stool. The map showed Germany with many different colored areas.
"Ve vere here." She tapped an area of the map. "An anti-muggle group of Nazi vizards came in one night, completely out of novhere, and stormed the area. Many vere killed. It vas a riot. Remember, riots you should not try and escape from. Anyvay, they decided to have a little fun vith me. First, they put me under the Imperio curse. After that, but not taking off the Imperio Curse first, they put me under the Crucio Curse. That magnified the pain, and, caused me to twitch and shudder the way I do. They ended up leaving us for dead and just going. There was no rhyme or reason to vhy they did this, other then the fact of vho ve vere. Now, I know that I did the right think. But I have been permanently affected. The reason I told you this story is because I want you all to learn about permanent effects from the attacks of dark vizards. I also told you this because I know that many of you vonder vhy I twitch." She smiled for a moment, then snapped back into her mini-McGonagall mode.
"Now, turn to page tvo hundred tventy-three in your books, and take notes."
After class, Ron, Hermione and Harry walked over to her.
"We actually talked to Dumbledore." Ron said, his eyes shifting.
"And he told us everything." Harry continued, looking at the floor.
"And we wanted to say that we feel really bad." Hermione said softly.
"And we didn't say anything to anyone. They don't have a clue that you were in the hospital wing, except for Seamus." Ron added hastily.
Rachel nodded. At that moment, Seamus came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I think we all should go for a walk"
When Rachel awoke the next morning, in time for class, she was given weak tea and watery oatmeal. Both with not a lot of flavor, yet easy to swallow. Rachel found she had no voice at all. Madame Pomfrey summoned some school robes for Rachel, since she could not get back to her trunk in time, and ended up having to wear a skirt. With knee-socks. Something Rachel had never done before, and had no desire to repeat. She wore pants under her uniform. Nice pants. Not boy's pants, but still, pants. And if she had to wear a skirt, it wasn't short. Not that this was a mini-skirt, but, well, Rachel wasn't crazy about her legs.
When she walked into the advanced Potions she had that day, she got whistles from Fred, George and Lee. There was nothing she could say, being as she couldn't say anything at all. Instead she smacked them with her Charms book, and hoped they learned a lesson. They didn't, and complained to each other about how there were no morals in America, and that the girls clothing there was much too provocative. Rachel was about to hit them again, but the bell rang and she left for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Ron opened his mouth to say something about her skirt as she slid in next to him. Rachel hadn't known she had been thought of as so much as a tomboy. I mean, she looked good at the ball, didn't she? People had said they didn't recognize her. Though, in retrospect, there might be a bit more underneath those words. Did it mean she wasn't really pretty? Or that she just didn't try? Or was it that she was pretty but she dressed like a boy and that no one really knew how pretty she was until she got dressed up? She was going to continue mulling over it, but then Professor Randolph slapped the chalkboard. Everyone jumped.
"Today ve vill hear a first hand account of someone vho has dealt with dark vizards."
All eyes shifted to Harry, then a few to Rachel. Few could forget the time, last year, when nearly in tears she had recounted her experience with the Crutacious curse. Afterward, she had cried, and cried, and had to miss some of transfiguration before she was calm enough to enter, but no, neither Harry nor she would be sharing their experiences.
Professor Randolph took a deep breath, and at that moment, everyone knew whose account they would be hearing.
"My mother vas a muggle, and my father vas a vizard. My mother died of cancer shortly after I vas born, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Shortly after, while I was vith relatives during a vacation, my father was killed by anti-muggle vizards who were appalled at the fact he had married one. My relatives decided they liked me enough, but not enough to keep me vith them my vhole life. I vas sent to an orphanage in Germany, for muggle-borns and half-bloods. It seemed like a good idea, yes? No. I lived there for avhile, and it vas pretty nice, it helped keep us together, because things were segregated in Germany at this time, yes? Yes. Anyvay, shortly after that is vhere my story begins." She tapped the chalkboard again and a map appeared. She gave a violent shudder and nearly fell off her stool. The map showed Germany with many different colored areas.
"Ve vere here." She tapped an area of the map. "An anti-muggle group of Nazi vizards came in one night, completely out of novhere, and stormed the area. Many vere killed. It vas a riot. Remember, riots you should not try and escape from. Anyvay, they decided to have a little fun vith me. First, they put me under the Imperio curse. After that, but not taking off the Imperio Curse first, they put me under the Crucio Curse. That magnified the pain, and, caused me to twitch and shudder the way I do. They ended up leaving us for dead and just going. There was no rhyme or reason to vhy they did this, other then the fact of vho ve vere. Now, I know that I did the right think. But I have been permanently affected. The reason I told you this story is because I want you all to learn about permanent effects from the attacks of dark vizards. I also told you this because I know that many of you vonder vhy I twitch." She smiled for a moment, then snapped back into her mini-McGonagall mode.
"Now, turn to page tvo hundred tventy-three in your books, and take notes."
After class, Ron, Hermione and Harry walked over to her.
"We actually talked to Dumbledore." Ron said, his eyes shifting.
"And he told us everything." Harry continued, looking at the floor.
"And we wanted to say that we feel really bad." Hermione said softly.
"And we didn't say anything to anyone. They don't have a clue that you were in the hospital wing, except for Seamus." Ron added hastily.
Rachel nodded. At that moment, Seamus came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I think we all should go for a walk"
