You sit at your desk hunched over papers. You are scribbling on them, furiously, muttering to yourself. Your hand is shaking and your eyes rapidly moving past each word on each line. All of a sudden, your hand stops shaking and you drop your quill. You stop and take a deep breath. You are sweating and your head is pounding, and feels as if it is about to split open. You take another deep breath. You stop and try to get a hold of yourself, before starting back again on your work.
Children, you think. Always doing something. Children, you think. Children. You see them every hour of every day. You count the number of children who walk into your dungeon with big egos and snotty attitudes. Children. Always doing something. But you have been doing this now, for a long time, so you are used to it.
You don't remember much of your childhood. It either went by in a blur for you or you've just tried hard to block it out. There are many things you wish you could forget. There are many things you wish you didn't remember. The laughing, the taunting, the pointing, the whispering. There are many things you wish you could forget. It was the reason you took the job. It was the reason you decided to spend your life with the creatures that made it a living hell. You know you are not happy. You know you never will be. But you keep at it, trying to put as many people through as much hell as you went through. It was why you took the job.
You never were happy. You never had the contentment you had longed for. You were always doing something wrong. Something bad, but you never knew what that was. You were frustrated with your life. You were angry. People teased you. People laughed. You never knew what was so funny. You never knew why they were laughing. In the beginning you tried to laugh with them, which made the whole thing even funnier to them. You stopped listening to them after a while. You grew tired of everything, and eventually found an effective way to block it all out.
But there is some satisfaction you get from your job. And it's not helping children excel in their education and watching them grow up to be successful. The satisfaction that you long for during the day comes to you at dinner when you sit with your peers. You sit at the head table, off to the side as you are not as important. You arrive at your seat to find her sitting up straight and wide eyed. She hardly notices you. She is staring at the student body sitting at the four tables in front of her. It is then that you ask yourself why you came. And it is then that you realize why.
You turn to look at her and she turns to look at you. You mutter a muffled "Hello" and she nods at you. You quickly turn around from her, as you feel the slightest bit of red fill your pale cheeks. You turn back to stare at your food, and she begins to eat. That is the satisfaction you receive for all your hard work.
You have watched her since you were both younger. She was prettier then, with her long hair flowing over her shoulders. She was livelier then, always watching the things around her. She is still quiet, and never says much. You had always longed for the attention nobody paid to her. You had always wanted to be left alone. Nobody spoke to her, nobody cared what she did. You were the one who was watched and followed. You were the ugly one people noticed and laughed at. She was the one nobody bothered. You watched her grow up to the woman she is today. You watched her grow up to be the lonely woman she is today.
She makes a small noise, as if she is about to speak. You turn to look at her, your mouth full of food. She clears her throat and looks away. She has never done anything but give a simple nod to you and you have never done anything but mutter a simple hello to her. After you have swallowed a bite of chicken you stand abruptly, and rush off without saying a word. You feel her eyes on your back as she watches you pass the corner.
You stare into space. You stare into the oblivion of your office with a stack of papers in front of you. You feel yourself stand up suddenly and feel your legs moving toward the door. You feel yourself walking up several staircases. You feel yourself look up at the clear night sky in the Great Hall. You feel yourself climb up more stairs and you feel yourself stop in front of a pair of doors with the words 'Hospital Wing' across it. You feel yourself push open the two doors and walk into the room.
You are snapped back into the real world by the rustle of papers. You are back in your office sitting in front of a stack of papers. You sigh and dip your quill in ink and begin to scribble on what a student would call 'hard work' but what you would call 'a waste of time.' You finish reading it and write a big 'FAIL' across the top.
A/N: As you have probably guessed the two characters are Madame Pomfrey and Severus Snape. I'm not sure if there is an exact age for either of them, but in this story they went to school together.
