Author's Note: OK. I realize that the whole fic is an author insertion. Sorry. But you have to admit, the character is pretty realistic she should be. She's based on me! . Hope you guys like it. Spread the word! Haha Anywayz, here's…
Chapter 12: Alakazookie
I was told that Professor Ghent was the greatest home educator alive. Everyone said that he was tutor to many offspring of upper-class wizarding families all over the world. Whenever a wealthy child was unable to go away to magic school, he was called to give the child his education. The great wizard C.E.O., Magnus Ravenswood, was a pupil of Professor Ghent. Apparently, only the most snobbish, finicky parents would decide that their children were "too good" for Hogwarts, Beauxbatons or wherever. I told Professor Dumbledore this and he laughed.
"Well, if you are going to forego the normal educational institutions, the best choice would be to hire Professor Ghent. He's a brilliant wizard. I know so, having taught him myself," Dumbledore remarked," I have to admit that his education is of a higher caliber than anyone else's." He obviously held Professor Ghent in high esteem.
"Patrick Ghent is a phenomenal educator! He gives the highest quality education in half the time!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. Teachers had been dropping in on my classes during their breaks. This doesn't seem to faze Professor Ghent at all. He simply says, "Come on now, Professor . Let's not get carried away." But they were not getting carried away. Professor Ghent was THAT good.
And obviously, knowing that the wealthiest families are the only ones who frequent Professor Ghent's services, his fees are quite enormously substantial. No wonder I had so many sponsors. My tuition for a year was worth what normal parents spend in seven years. For FIVE children.
So I wondered, why spend so much on me? My first encounter with a wand was astonishing, but my classes with Professor Ghent showed that I was no prodigy. I was surprised by how much my magic grades were just like my grades in normal school: extremely high in some subjects, and disappointingly mediocre in others. And there's always this one subject that brings me to my knees. Back then it was anything with Math. Under Professor Ghent, it was Arithmancy.
"Professor, can't I just drop this subject? It's not a major subject like Transfiguration or Potions," I begged.
"No, young miss. That is out of the question. Just because you dislike doing something difficult does not mean you can just give up on it. We are aiming for your FULL potential here. Do you think we can do that because you 'don't feel like' working with numbers?" he said in his stiff, formal way. I sulked indulgently after this.
At least I spend my breaks with Harry, Ron and Hermione.
--- HARRY'S POV ---
"That man's a slave driver, he is. I was up till 2am writing reports on the Truce of Trolls and Goblins, the uses and side-effects of 150 different obscure herbs AND a thesis on Egyptian curses that even seventh years aren't expected to know," Juls scowled. She looked really tired and cranky.
It was lunchtime and Juls had sat with us as usual. Hermione had warmed up to her a bit. She must've realized that Juls wasn't threatening at all. Gryffindors seemed to like her. Seamus and Dean would tease her about taking a quick dip in the lake. She'd talk with other girls about, well, girlie things too. The Ravenclaws were polite and yet still cautious around her. Hufflepuffs acted nervous, almost afraid to offend her or something. The Slytherins, since her encounter with Malfoy, had resorted to stony silence when she was around. This was fine because she hardly had anything to do with Slytherins in the first place.
"You're lucky to have the great Professor Ghent as a tutor. His teaching is first class. I've read quite a few articles about him, you know," Hermione said almost enviously, "So you don't have the right to complain."
"You still get time to sleep right?" Ron asked.
"Of course," Juls replied.
"Then you're just fine. You don't need a time turner so you're schedule is quite tame," Ron grinned.
"I can't understand those things. The whole time travel thing is so complicated!"
"It's actually quite simple really…" Hermione began.
I didn't get to hear Hermione explain the wonders of time travel because something caught my attention. I noticed a strange man watching us. He was rather old and formal looking. He kept staring at Juls, then at Hermione, Ron and then…at me. We locked eyes for the briefest moment and I felt a strange feeling at the pit of my stomach. Then Professor McGonagall approached him and they started to talk.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"That's Mr. Guillard. He's one of those people who pay for my tutoring," Juls replied.
"Oh."
"That must be one loaded bloke!" Ron whispered.
"He must be. He sure looks the part," Hermione mused.
"What's he doing here?" I asked.
"I don't know. He doesn't really drop by and talk to me like my other sponsors do. And Ms. Annabelle, you know, I've talked about here before. She'd already sent me four owls for the past two weeks. Come to think of it, I haven't really had a proper conversation with that man. He left as soon as he had met me," Juls replied. She seemed to think nothing of this.
"That's odd," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"But I've heard he is this big businessman who has companies all over the world! He owns the best cauldron manufacturing companies and he runs this prestigious wizard law firm," Juls continued, "He's really busy. He goes to three different countries everyday."
"Where'd you know all that?" Ron asked.
"I asked Professor Ghent."
"He must know everything then."
"Not everything. He couldn't figure out how I got here either!"
"Well that's too much to ask of anyone," I laughed.
We had chatted about mostly insignificant things throughout our lunch. But soon the time had come for us to get back to our classes, and for Juls to go back to her scholar. It's strange how she came, and the circumstances have become stranger as time passed by. We gathered our things, said "See you later!", and surrendered to our schedule for the afternoon.
--- JULS'S POV ---
I had finished Professor Ghent's assignments late into the night so I wasn't able to join the trio for dinner. I just found a tray of various meats and cheeses on my bed. I lay on the bed and munched on my ham. Once again, I noticed the H.W. + A. G. on the left bed post. Getting on my knees, I touched the etching and wondered who they were.
Were they young like me? What house were they in? Did they love each other incredibly, deeply, truly? Slowly I traced my finger along the letters, marks of love, saccharine and permanent on sturdy wood. I don't know why, but I kissed the post softly. I loved them for loving each other. Realizing the honey-sweet inanity of what I'd just done, I blushed.
There are few truly beautiful things in this world. At times I come across beauty in its full and I give my share of oohs and ahhs. Most often I don't even notice it at all. Getting caught up in you is a sorry thing. Have you ever realized that you overlooked something that deserved closer inspection? Look closer and twice, you'll be surprised by what you'll find. A hidden light, unblemished, pure, complex, madness, fear, absurdity, life. Even the so called ugly things have a peculiar loveliness to them. I wish I were a poet so I could put into words the songs of tragically beautiful things.
I put the tray on top of the chest and crawled into the sheets.
"Lights out."
The candles extinguished.
To fall asleep, I thought calm thoughts. It took a while because of the darned letters carved into the post. It's funny how unearthed beauty makes me short of breath, exceedingly stranger than usual and deliriously happy.