Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.
Chapter 9
Professor Evans was working at her desk after her last class of the day was concluded, window open to allow in the May air, when she heard a loud scream from the hallway not too far away from her room. Immediately she shot up and ran. She was coming close to where the scream came from when she heard lots of arguing and then a shout, "PROFESSOR! WE NEED A PROFESSOR!", and then more arguing and some "Shut up!"s. She quickly rounded a corner to see a small group of students and something black on the ground. And…red. Her eyes flashed at the realization at what had transpired as two students, clearly not the perpetrators, called out "Professor Evans! Over here quickly!". The other three glared at the other two and gripped their wands. If their robes weren't black, one would see splatters of blood on them.
Professor Evans marched over, a calm, angry scowl on her face. There were many emotions swirling through her, but things had to be taken care of before she could acknowledge any of them. "None of you move", she commanded coldly. She crouched over the figure on the ground, a student. Slytherin, actually. A 4th year. Professor Evans instantly had horrible war flashbacks but forced them aside as her body habitually checked for signs of life and wounds. She mechanically made a list of what she discovered: Alive, unconscious, robe torn, bleeding cuts, scratches on face, most likely bruises everywhere else, broken arm…his wand arm…She looked up briefly to see a broken wand not too far away from where the student laid. A possible struggle. She stood up, face now stone. She looked at the pair of students that called her over, a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw. 6th year and 5th year, respectively. She addressed them, "If you both could please take Mr. Celi to the infirmary gently but quickly, I'd appreciate it." They looked at each other, then nodded briskly. With Professor Evans' help, they figured out how to best carry their fellow student and started their trek to the infirmary. The other three students had been silent during the event. She turned and looked over them, arms crossed, daring them to speak. They were 6th years, a Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. After a few moments, she spoke. "Would someone like to explain what happened here?" No response. She smirked coldly, knowing full well why this occurred, and thus knew exactly how to get a reaction. "You know," she said, her tone and demeanor now light, "I thought you kids would be too old to play war." Three heads shot up in anger and each shouted something along the lines of 'War isn't something to pretend!'. She raised her eyebrows, playfully responding, "But isn't that what you did? You were playing war! And it was an inter-house game too! You even included Slytherin in the fun, how thoughtful." They looked at her dumbfounded, unsure how to counter. She then eased into a mature stance, cheeky smile dropping into a hard yet wise one. "That is what small children do. They play games. Sometimes bigger children also play games, but they think they are too old to use toys anymore. So they use the real thing while still playing." She walked over and picked up the broken wand, which had been snapped through the middle, and held it for the students to see. Her tone and expression darkened further, "Games stop being games when the first blood is drawn, when the line is first crossed." She closed her hand around the wand and placed her arm at her side. She stood authoritatively before them. "You do know the war is over, correct?" They snapped up again, insulted. She raised her eyebrows again. They gulped and reluctantly nodded, looking away. She pointed to the splatters of blood on the floor and the area where the student collapsed. "Then why did this happen if the war is over? Why must more people suffer? Why do you wish for more violence and harm and pain in this world? There has been enough already." She pointed over to them, "You do not get to decide who deserves to get hurt and suffer for past actions. Has it occurred to you that possibly they are just as much scarred from the whole thing as you are?! Or that they hold remorse and regret that they were forced into fighting by a being that threatened to kill everyone in their family if they didn't comply? That they have learned their lessons in the most brutal and merciless way possible? No." The students shifted guiltily under her gaze as she spoke. "No you didn't. Otherwise this wouldn't have happened. Because you don't see it. And because you don't see it, you assume it isn't there. You don't see what they have been trained never to show. You think they must not hurt, then. That they hold no feeling and just go about their lives unmoved. So you take it upon yourselves to severely harm another student and call it justice. How dare you!" She walked closer to the students, who backed away slightly. "The war is over. Start acting like it." Professor Evans folded her arms, "And you will start with going to the infirmary and watching the nurses patch up your victim. You will not move from watching and if someone asks you why, you will tell them what you did and why and that this is part of the consequence. I will report this to the headmistress and when she is ready to see you, she will send for you. Only then may you leave. If you leave before, your punishment will be doubled. And I will know. Are we clear?" They nodded. "Then off you go." They quickly ran in the direction of the infirmary. This left Professor Evans by herself. All the cover emotions drained from her and were replaced with the ones held in, her body threatening to collapse right then and there. But she pulled herself together enough to head to the headmistress' office.
The large office was set to fit the needs and style of the current headmaster, and Evans was still surprised whenever she walked in. It had transformed from Dumbledore to McGonagall right down to the air in the room. The bird perch changed into a cat tree. The office desk was still in the same place, but off to the side by the window there was another desk arranged to be similar to her office. It was dubbed the Therapy Desk, and was open for students and staff to talk with her about anything going on. McGonagall was often known as the professor anyone could go to, and the headmaster office still held that belief.
Professor Evans tried to maintain some composure as she walked in. McGonagall was placing files onto the shelf and turned when she heard the door open. "Ah, good evening Sarah. What brings you here?"
Professor Evans took a shaky breath, as the incident came flowing back without mercy. The spell snapped, but she didn't feel the recoil. "Th-There was a-another in-cident in the ha-hallway…" she choked out before succumbing to the tidal wave of emotions. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes, tears streaming down her face.
McGonagall went over to her and led her to the side desk and sat her down. She comforted her until she was calm enough to speak. "What happened, dear? Was it that bad?" Evans nodded, then reached into her pocket and placed the broken wand on the desk. McGonagall let out a faint gasp.
"Chris Celi, 4th year, Slytherin," Evans voice shook, though clear enough to understand. "3 students this time, one from each other house, all 6th years. I sent them all to the infirmary."
McGonagall raised her eyebrow, "And why is that?"
Evans smiled, though still crying, "Eye for an eye. They caused the pain, they have to see it undone, how ever gruesome. They can only leave when you send for them." She took off her glasses and ran her hands over her face and through her hair, sniffling and sobbing. She leaned back in the chair. "Why? Why are they still hurting each other? I understand things take time to heal…but they can at least try."
"It will take a lot more time for this thinking to be undone, my dear, than what has passed. Much time before anyone remembers the balance of before. Fears don't go away overnight, and it will show," McGonagall placed a hand on her arm, "And that is why, as the faculty of this school, it is our job to remind them of the unity, respect, kindness, understanding and forgiveness that is within them and allow those to be the dominant emotions once again. For everyone's sake." Evans didn't respond, just simply tilted her head back with her eyes closed. "You're doing what you can. The fruits of your labors will ripen with time. You must have faith in that."
Evans took a deep breath, sat up, and recast her spell. After she adjusted, she stood up and nodded to McGonagall, but not looking at her. "Thank you professor. I must get back to my office. Don't forget to send for the students," she said, in a professional, slightly distant voice.
"I won't."
Evans nodded again and headed out of the office. McGonagall looked in her direction, frowning. She sighed deeply, then got up and walked back to her main desk and resumed her work.
Former students and families, no matter the side, were welcomed back onto the school grounds for the one year commemoration. It was to be held the day after graduation. It sounds painful, but the whole school agreed it should be done, as sort of a reunion and a reaffirming what the school, especially Dumbledore's Army, believes in and fought for. The whole Weasley house took the trip to Hogwarts for both events, naturally. There were no speeches for the commemoration, nothing official, and by Merlin's beard no press or ministry or anyone outside the Hogwarts community. It was much more of a casual social event, where mingling and just being together was the focus.
Harry went around the school, seeing what was new, introducing himself to the new faculty and saying hi to all the ghosts. He saw old and friendly faces, welcome faces and faces he didn't think would show up but he's glad they did. There were some faces he didn't see, notable faces. He was a tad disappointed at that. But there was one face, one new face, one face he knew was here, that he hadn't seen yet; one that McGonagall informed him was up on one of the open air pathways. He turned the corner and saw her. Professor Sarah Evans, live and well, it seemed. Harry stood there for a moment, examining her semi-distant profile and his recent conversation with McGonagall swirled in his mind.
He had talked with her for a while after the graduation, catching up and all that. Then he brought up the discovery he, Hermione and Ron made. And then he relayed the information Ginny, Luna, Becca and Julia told them from both her and Hagrid. (The identifying details were his sister was a Hufflepuff student, she took a different last name, grew up as an orphan and was well known for having done something against school rules and not get punished for it. The two had gone on story telling tangents). McGonagall smiled at him, for she had been hoping this time would come for a very long time, and started asking what he knew about the new professors, especially the DADA professor, and if he didn't know a lot, he should ask the new graduates about them. Of course he, Ron and Hermione consulted the four that had helped them thus far, and like clockwork, Luna and Hermione put it together first and nearly simultaneously. Wasn't there a female Hufflepuff professor that snuck into the Restricted section underage, found and used a powerful spell she found and wasn't punished? Indeed. The lightbulb went off for everyone. Ginny then looked at Harry for a moment, and then suddenly made a garbled shriek as a certain conversation suddenly made absolute sense, and then adamantly seconded their theory. Harry ran to McGonagall again with their theory, to which she replied, a smirk evident, "Well there is only one way to know for sure, isn't there?".
So there he was, around 16 hours later, standing at the other end of the hallway, watching Professor Evans stare out into the fields out and below. Suddenly he became very self-conscious and nervous. She's probably seen me over here by now. Oh god she probably thinks I'm some creep. Would she even remember me? What if this is all wrong? Harry's doubts were silenced when he put his hands into his pocket and felt what was there, the strongest proof that a life before Voldemort ever existed. He steeled his resolve, took a quick breath, reminded himself of his plan and started walking over to her.
Sarah felt wrong being at the commemoration. She hadn't fought at the Battle of Hogwarts. She wasn't even in the country. She was fine at the graduation. But her only purpose at the commemoration was to introduce herself as the new DADA professor. She could stand that for about 20 minutes. It just kept making her feel guilty, especially those that actually knew her from Australian papers. (Why would anyone even read Australian wizarding news up here?!). How she taught and used non-lethal defense spells, how with her teachings not one magic user died, on either side. How her plan to scare off dark wizards by asking the local fauna to do so deterred most of the attacks. How she was hailed a hero. Yet I couldn't be there for my home. Many parents were proud to have such a remarkable witch teach their children, and they even seemed to mean it. Why aren't you bitter?! Some even said her family should be very proud of her right now. I wasn't there in time for them either. I'm never there when it's important. I'm never there in time to save those I love. The room was becoming very toxic, to her perspective. Too many triggers, too many thoughts. She just barely made it out when the spell snapped. She walked steadily, with her seeing cane, away from the crowd. She made it to the upper stone walkways. The open air was always calming. After a bit, she recast and simply enjoyed the quiet, letting her mind wander and be free, thinking of anything but the event downstairs and anything related. This was so for about an hour, until the silence was broken.
"Excuse me? Are you Professor Evans?"
"Yes -", she turned to find a bespectacled brown young man with unruly hair just finishing walking towards her. His face was recognizable instantly. (Being on Wanted posters sort of does that.) She tilted her head slightly, her face giving off an unreadable expression. "Yes, I am."
Harry nodded nervously, then quickly stuck out his hand and said, "Harry Potter." She hesitated for a moment, and then shook his hand, face still unreadable.
They stood facing each other in semi-awkward silence for a solid 3 seconds before Sarah asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"
Harry was startled back into reality. "Ah, yes- Er, no- Um, I mean, I sort of just wanted to thank you, for you know, being a great professor to them. The students, I mean. They need someone good to look up to, you know? And um, they all say you've done a great job at teaching defense and being a supportive house master for the Slytherins because they really needed someone positive to guide them and care about them so just….thanks." He scratched his head and made an embarrassed sheepish face
Sarah needed a moment to process the continuous string of words that poured out of Harry's mouth. She stood there with a polite yet amused expression, "…You're welcome?" Another 4 semi-awkward seconds slip by. She smiled, still suppressing a smile and a laugh, "Anything else?"
At this, Harry started to fidget, as if he was debating if he had something else to say. Finally he made up his mind, and settled down. He looked at her with a resolved stance, much different from moments before. She tilted her head forward, indicating she was ready to listen. He took a breath. "Actually, there was another thing I was hoping to talk with you about." He reached for the picture in his pocket and handed it to her. She looked at him while she took the picture, and then she looked down and nearly screamed. The picture was of a young girl holding a baby in a blanket on her little lap on the floor.
Harry brought the last photo in the picture album with him. He watched as her features completely changed from composed to surprised and emotional. She stared at the photo, entirely mesmerized and enveloped by it. Harry suppressed a smile, taking this as a good sign, and took a step forward and started, "You see, I'm looking for the young girl in this photo. See," he pointed to himself in the photo, "that's me when I was a baby. And no one ever knew what happened to her, if she is in fact my older sister. The photo album says her name is Sarah Rose Potter. And McGonagall says that you definitely know her. So if you could help me find her I would greatly appreciate it." Sarah looked up from the photo at him. He smiled innocently. She closed her eyes and tried to hold her emotions down. She took a deep breath and looked back down at the photo.
"I didn't even know they took this," she said quietly, shaking her head, "Let alone if there was anything left there. I just assumed…"
"So it is you!"
…
