Disclaimer: The characters of Walker, and Harry Potter (mentioned in this chapter as Sophie's book she is reading at the time), do not belong to me.

A/N: This is the first chapter of this story. The way it's written, it could be an angsty one shot, but I promise it is NOT. There will be more chapters to come.

This story is partially based on a middle school teacher I had, but luckily my mom treated the situation differently than Abeline and Bonham do in this story.

Abeline and Bonham

There wasn't a lot that took Abeline by surprise. But this one stumped her.

Sophie had started middle school two weeks earlier. She hadn't talked about it much, but Abeline had chalked that up to her turning twelve and becoming a teenager soon, wanting to keep some things to herself. As long as she kept a reign on the attitude that came with being twelve, Abeline let it go. It hurt, but she let it go.

She was starting to think that maybe she'd taken the wrong road.

The phone call had come in the night before for her and Bonham. Sophie's social studies teacher wanted to have a conference with the two of them. Abeline had been to parent teacher meetings before for Sophie, but they were few and far between. She could count them on one hand. The first had been in kindergarten, when Sophie had struggled to make friends and seemed to be slightly depressed. The second had been in third grade, when Sophie's grades had suffered slightly when her big brother Cordell left home. Abeline had thought that this meeting would be among the same lines, since Liam, who still had a very close relationship with his little sister, was a senior in high school that year and would be leaving for college in just a few months.

The child that Sophie's teacher described to her mother that day seemed like a complete stranger.

Apparently, while Sophie was doing all her homework, she was only half completing assignments in class, refusing to participate, talking too much, and would frequently argue with her teacher. Sophie had been forced to eat her lunch in the classroom several times, as part of an effort by her teacher to 'correct her behavior before getting her parents involved or sending her to the principal's office'. After the fifth time of having to do so in two weeks, Mrs. Wilson had apparently had enough and called home.

Before confronting Sophie about the information she had, she had to check with Bonham.

Sophie sometimes talked to her father about things she wouldn't talk to her mother about. Abeline knew it was because Bonham was calmer and less overprotective than she was, and most of the time it didn't bother her. She wanted Sophie to have a close relationship with her father. She also knew that Bonham wouldn't break Sophie's confidence, unless and until something big was going on. Abeline thought this qualified as big. Walking into the barn to discuss the situation with Bonham, the two of them started to work out a plan.

Sophie

Sophie climbed off the bus, dreading going into her house almost as much as she dreaded school.

Progress reports had come out that day. Just as Sophie had feared, she was failing social studies. Failing school was on her parents big list of no-nos. There was, according to her brother Liam, in what she had thought of as a hilarious impression of their father, 'no fun whatsoever, of any kind, until those grades come back up, son'. The night Liam had done it, everyone in the family had thought it hysterical, but now Sophie was scared that was about to become her life.

It was totally stupid.

Mrs. Wilson seemed to have a thousand rules. A lot of them were rules other teachers had-no talking too loud, raise your hand, don't get up without permission. All the stuff that Sophie had been trained to do since kindergarten and came second nature to her. But Mrs. Wilson had other rules that Sophie found ridiculous, and she hadn't been afraid to say so.

Everyone had to take notes the same way. Each student was required to have notebook paper and a pen, and you had to write neatly and plainly. She checked your notes every day before you left class, and you were given a grade on them.

Yes, a grade. On your own personal notes, that Sophie had planned to study that night.

If you took too many notes, Mrs. Wilson would remind you to only get the key points of what she'd had to say that day, but would unhelpfully not say what she thought those key points were. If you took too few notes, you received a zero for participation and a note in big red ink that said PAY ATTENTION. While this was annoying, it was something Sophie thought she could deal with.

Until the second day onwards, when she'd received a zero for participation in class. Every. Single. Day.

They'd had two pop quizzes, both of which Sophie had passed with flying colors, so she was getting the material. She did all her reading assignments every night, but of course those were never graded. When she raised her hand to answer a question in class, Mrs. Wilson never called on her. The day before, Sophie had finally gotten angry about it and asked Mrs. Wilson about it after class. She'd been calm and collected about it, but wanted to know the answer to a direct question.

"Why don't you like me?"

The answer Mrs. Wilson had given her shocked Sophie so badly that her eyes had filled with tears and she'd run out of the room straight to the nurses office. With a sneer that reminded Sophie of her favorite character Severus Snape from the book she was currently reading, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Mrs. Wilson had answered rudely,

"No one likes a know-it-all. Including me. Now go to lunch."

Sophie was used to bullies. She was small for her age, the size of an average fourth grader. She'd been small all her life and had been made to prove herself more than once. But for the bully to be a teacher? That had startled Sophie.

She hadn't told her parents or her brother about it the night before. When asked why she was so quiet at dinner, Sophie had simply responded that she didn't feel well and asked if she could be excused. Mama seemed worried but agreed, coming in to check on Sophie after her shower and even cuddling with her for a few minutes until she fell asleep. It had felt nice for Sophie, a place that was safe and warm and comfortable.

A place far away from her mean and vicious teacher.

The next day, knowing that her parents wouldn't allow her to stay home unless she was sick, and knowing that she would never get away with faking illness, Sophie had opted to go to school. She'd hoped that the day before had been a fluke, that Mrs. Wilson would realize she'd crossed the line and be nicer to Sophie, perhaps even apologize. But nothing changed. In fact, it got worse.

Instead of not calling on Sophie, Mrs. Wilson had called on her for nearly every question. Having not read her assignment the night before because she'd gone to bed early, Sophie wasn't prepared, and Mrs. Wilson came down hard on her each of the four times she asked Sophie a question. Sophie could feel the sympathetic glances from many of her classmates, and she heard them whispering as she left the room when the bell rang. She wondered if they were talking about her, wondering why the new teacher didn't seem to like Sophie.

It was a question Sophie wondered about herself.

But for now, Sophie thought, she was home, and she could talk to her parents after dinner that night about Mrs. Wilson. She'd talk to Liam first when he came home, hopefully gaining his support and his help on what to do. Sophie was completely lost here, but had faith that her family would help her.

What she found instead scared her.

Her parents were seated at the dining room table when she walked in. Being only four o'clock, and far too early for her father to be in from working the ranch, Sophie cautiously placed her backpack next to the front door as she pulled her shoes off. Mama and Daddy didn't say anything, just waited for her to join them at the table. Sophie's first thought was that something was wrong with her brother, Cordell, who had left a few weeks earlier on his second deployment with the Marines.

"Mama? Daddy? Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, honey. We need to talk. Sit down." Abeline said. Though she smiled softly at Sophie, it was obvious she was far from happy.

"Is Cordi okay?" Sophie asked.

Thrown by the seemingly out of nowhere question, Abeline and Bonham looked at each other for a moment before they both realized why Sophie's thoughts might have drifted to her brother. Both of them visibly relaxed.

"Your brother's fine." Bonham assured Sophie. This is about you, darling."

"Me? What did I do?"

"It's about what you're not doing." Abeline said with the slightest hint of impatience in her voice. "I got called to your school today by your social studies teacher."

Sophie's face blanched. What had Mrs. Wilson told her parents? "Mama, I can explain…"

"Please do explain, Sophia Faith." Abeline said. "I need an explanation why you're not doing your work in this class. This isn't like you."

"I am doing my work." Sophie protested. "Mama, please just listen to me. I am doing my work, but Mrs. Wilson's totally crazy!"

"That's enough, Sophia." Bonham reprimanded, his voice just shy of being raised. "Are you telling me your teacher's lying?"

"Well, no, not exactly…"

"Uh uh. Nope. You know the rules. Let me see that progress report you got today."

"Daddy, please just let me…"

"It's gon' be a few days, bare minimum, before me and your Mama let you do anything that isn't studying if that number's low enough on that progress report. Let me see it."

Wanting to argue her case further, but knowing it would likely get her nowhere, Sophie grabbed her backpack and pulled her progress reports out. She had four main subjects this semester-math, English, Earth Science, and of course, Social Studies. Her other three progress reports were all A's, with notes from each teacher which said things like joy to have in class, very smart, and Sophie's personal favorite, if I had twenty more students just like her I'd be in heaven. But of course, Mrs. Wilson's read like a character assassination letter.

Uncooperative, disrespectful, frequently doesn't complete assignments. Has been a behavior issue from day one.

"You're failing?" Bonham growled, handing the report over to Abeline. "That average is so low it'll take you weeks to get it back up."

"Daddy, please, I'm doing my best…"

"I don't think so." Bonham said. "I don't know what you have against this new teacher, but this stops today. Do you understand me, young lady?"

"Daddy…"

"I said, do you understand me? Yes or no?"

Sophie sniffed and wiped her nose, the tears threatening to fall down no matter how hard she tried to stop them. She could see it in her mother's face and hear it in her father's voice. They were disappointed in her. And that hurt more than anything, more than any punishment the two of them could lay down on her. Especially when she'd done nothing to deserve it. But she could also see that she wouldn't get anywhere now if she argued like she wanted to.

That didn't stop her from trying.

"Why won't you listen to me?" Sophie asked.

"Because the evidence is right here, Sophie." Abeline said. "Go to your room and start your homework."

"What about Sunny?"

"I'll take care of Sunny until those grades are up." Bonham said. "You're grounded until you're pulling a B."

"A B? That'll take weeks!"

"Then it'll take weeks." Bonham said, a gravelly edge to his voice that Sophie had heard before, but never aimed at her. It said the subject was closed and there was nothing she could do about it. "I'm serious. Your education is important, and I won't let you slack off."

A wave of anger flooded through Sophie. She pushed her chair back from the table and snatched her backpack off the floor, stomping towards her room and throwing her school things on the bed. She halfway thought that her father would come in and spank her for slamming her door, but he didn't. Bonham didn't spank often, but outward displays of disrespect, such as leaving a conversation he was having with you, was one of the quickest ways to go about it.

Sophie loved to learn things in school. She was a good student, but she'd only learned one lesson that day.

As long as the bully was an adult, no one would stand up for her. Not even her own parents.