Please forgive my prolonged absence. I have been really busy and I haven't had time to write, but here's Chapter 11 and I believe that this is one of my best chapters yet. Soon, I'll be starting a 'Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows' Fanfiction...or just a Harry Potter fanfiction in general, but it'll probably be based around the seventh book. Anyway...

Here's Chapter 11. Enjoy!

Chapter 11

I shot up from my bed as soon as my alarm went off. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the calender. Saturday. My first Saturday with Monsiuer Destler. I sighed, getting up from my bed and going to my closet, grabbing a sweatshirt and some jogging pants, pulling the pants on first. I looked at my self in the mirror, before I put my sweatshirt on and sighed. I had a bruise on my arm from Buquet. I pulled on the hoodie, grabbed my bag and left my house, biking my way to the school finding the door already open. I walked into the classroom, taking my seat at my desk, not noticing that he was sitting in the back of the room.

"Your assignment is on the board."

I gasped, turning around, seeing him.

"Monsiuer, don't scare me like that," I said, putting a hand to my chest, hoping that my heart rate would slow down.

"Sorry," he said, walking towards the front of the class room where his desk was.

"It's fine," I said, reaching into my bag, pulling my laptop out of my bag and setting it on my desk.

"All right, start whenever you are ready."

I looked up at the board, looking at the topic. Madame Isabelle Giry was written there. I nodded slightly, starting to type. I outlined what I knew about her, then started to type. Was it me or was it hot in the class room? It was never this hot in here before. As I continued to type I got hotter, so I decided to shed my hoodie, leaving me in the tank top that I had slept in. I had completely forgotten about my bruise. I thought that Monsieur Destler had left the room until he sat down in the desk next to mine and watched me as I typed.

"Where did you get the bruise from," he asked, looking at my arm.

"Nowhere," I replied quickly, hurriedly pulling the hoodie back on.

"Bullshit."

I gasped.

"Monsieur! I've never heard you curse before," I said, standing up.

He stood up as well, coming around the desk to talk to me. "Sophia, if Drake is abusing you, you need to confide in someone. An adult."

"You?"

"Possibly."

I breathed in deeply, saving the paper and shutting my laptop. I was about to do something very brave.

"Monsieur, would you mind if you sat down?"

He sat back down at the desk he previously sat at as I took a seat in the chair at his desk, crossing my legs as I sat.

"It's not Drake who's abusing me."

"Is it your one of your parents?"

"No."

"Then who is it," he asked, very concerned.

"I...it's someone that you're not very fond of."

"Chrissy?"

"No."

"Sophia, please...just tell me."

"I...it's...it's Buquet."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Since Paris, Buquet...he has...he's been molesting me."

"WHAT!" he yelled, bolting upright, grabbing the edge of the desk.

I couldn't reply, watching the rage grow within him. His eyes seemed to fill with anger as he grabbed the desk and threw it across the room, smashing a window, but not breaking it all of the way.

"Monsieur Destler, stop!" I yelled, standing and jumping over the desk, standing in front of him, gripping his arms. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, his muscles revealing themselves through his shirt.

"Please," I pleaded, not letting go, "calm down. This is my fault. I let it go on when I shouldn't have."

"This is not your fault, Sophia. It's mine. I should've stayed in the room that night he went there."

"No. You needed your rest. I want to stop. I do."

"Then refuse. Next time he pulls you out of class, just say that you can't."

"I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm protecting your job," I blurted out, tears in my eyes.

"What," he said, softly, taking my hands and looking into my eyes.

"He...he said that if I didn't go along with it that he would say that it was you instead of him. I couldn't let you lose your job. You're the best thing that has happened to this school. I couldn't bear you losing your job because of me."

"You were the best thing that has happened to me in a while, Sophia," he said, brushing some hair out of my eyes. "We'll fight this. We will."

"But he'll win."

"No. I won't let him win you," he said, stepping very close to me, his lips very close to mine. "That I promise you, my Sophia."

He took my face into his hands, looking at me closely, as if he was a curious child just staring at something new. He leaned down, closing his eyes slowly. As I closed mine, he brushed his lips very softly against mine, almost afraid that he would hurt me. I did the same in return, our noses touching lightly as my hands moved up his arms and were placed on the back of his neck. He shivered at my touch, almost as if it was winter in the room when it was outside. His hands slid down my arms and ended at my waist, where he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, my body pressing against his. My arms moved around his neck as we didn't speak another word, but stood there, giving soft and gentle kisses to one another, savoring every single one.