Chapter Text
Winter break has come to an end and there still hasn’t been any news from Professor Bakar about the last trial.
Through researching areas of increased goblin activity, Professor Fig has determined that the final trial might be farther south in the region, most likely somewhere near Clagmar Coast or Cragcroftshire. Both regions are infested with ashwinders, poachers, and goblin loyalists, so Professor Fig was cautiously optimistic when he informed you of his findings.
As it was a Saturday, meaning that there were no classes in session, Professor Fig proposed that you both make the trek down there together to scope out the Cragcroftshire first. That way when the location is revealed to you by Professor Bakar, you can both determine the best way to access the trial.
It was just after breakfast, and as you both walked through Hogwarts towards the South Exit, you finally found the opportunity to discuss what has been bothering you since the last trial.
“I told you the fable as it was originally written, so what is it that you are having trouble understanding?” Professor Fig chuckled, walking alongside you through Central Hall.
“It’s not that I don’t understand the story.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Each brother chose a gift from Death and they all had their own price to pay, but what is the moral exactly? Don’t build bridges or Death will have a grudge?” You retort, earning another chuckle from the man.
“Well, it's more nuanced than that. I always interpreted the fable as one about how we can foolishly try to outsmart Death, but it's where we all will eventually end up.” Professor Fig stated, looking thoughtfully ahead. You were about to point out that the third brother wasn't foolish meaning Professor Fig's proposed moral still doesn’t make sense, when a familiar voice cuts in from behind you both.
“I always thought the moral was that foolishness leads to an untimely demise.” Professor Sharp curtly stated, causing both you and your mentor to stop walking and turn around.
Professor Sharp’s face was more stern than usual, eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He is entirely focused on Professor Fig, his statement almost coming across as a jab to the older man.
“Ah, Professor Sharp. I didn’t take you for an eavesdropper.” Professor Fig comments, his voice coming out pleasant despite the pointed accusation. Even with the pleasant tone, it was easy to tell it was meant to be a jab of his own. You widen your eyes slightly, not expecting Professor Fig to be so passive aggressive right out of the gate.
“Is it really eavesdropping if you are talking in a very public hallway, Fig?” Professor Sharp shoots back, his tone more sarcastic as he refutes the accusation.
“I suppose you have a point there.” Professor Fig relents, still holding a tenseness in his posture as he speaks. Professor Fig was looking slightly irritated as Professor Sharp looked back in an intimidating manner. You choose to remain silent, observing the slight posturing both men are displaying.
Ever since your unfortunate panic attack in Professor Sharp’s classroom, it seems as though the tensions between the two professors has doubled. You aren’t sure if this is due to the two having another argument on your behalf or if it all stems from the former Auror’s growing suspicions, but either way you currently feel as though they are constantly one raised voice away from an all out duel.
Rather than continue the stare down, Professor Fig turns back to you.
“Shall we be on our way?” He politely asks, an arm coming up behind your back to guide you forward. You nervously nod, wondering how the older man could turn his back on Professor Sharp.
If Professor Sharp was staring you down like that, you would be nervous he’d hex you the second your back was turned.
“Wait.” Professor Sharp states in a clipped tone, both you and Professor Fig stopping to once again turn and face the man. Rather than continue to look at your mentor, Professor Sharp turns to you, his face just as serious as before.
“Don’t tell me you are going off campus for some sort of field trip when you have detention.” He states, his lips briefly quirking upwards before returning to a neutral expression as your face falls into shock.
“Detention? But sir-” You begin before Professor Sharp holds up his hand to cut you off.
“My deepest apologies Professor Fig, but I do believe that this student is otherwise occupied for the day.” Professor Sharp dryly states, clearly not feeling sorry in the slightest.
“Why wasn’t I informed of this detention?” Professor Fig questions, turning to you with an almost betrayed expression. Before you can reply in your own defense, Professor Fig turns back to the still stern potions professor in front of you.
“Aesop, I am sure that this is something that can be postponed. We have a rather time sensitive trip to make to advance our young friend’s studies, and their O.W.L.s are only creeping ever closer.” Professor Fig states diplomatically, almost trying to placate Professor Sharp.
“Well Eleazar, if you mean to excuse a student from another instructor’s detention, you know that you have to take your concerns up with the Deputy Headmistress. If you want to explain the details of what I am sure is a very important excursion to Professor Weasley, be my guest.” Professor Sharp retorts, a shark-like grin making its way onto his face as Professor Fig pales.
You can see that Professor Fig is trying to think of a way to get you out of this predicament, but you both know that Professor Weasley is almost as suspicious of your activities as Professor Sharp. If he goes to ask for your pardon from her, Professor Fig will surely be asked more questions than he can answer about this excursion. The older man lets out a small sigh before turning back towards you.
“I suppose you have a detention to get to. Do try to avoid detentions in the future, or at the very least let me know of them before we are to leave school grounds.” He requests, his voice clearly disappointed, though you aren’t sure if he is disappointed in you or the circumstances, before he gives you a pat on the shoulder and continues on his way.
You watch his retreating form for a moment longer, feeling almost abandoned as he saves himself, before turning back to the very smug potions professor in front of you.
“You heard him. Follow me.” Professor Sharp instructs, not even trying to hide his growing smirk before leading you down the hall to his classroom.
“Sir, I really don’t know what you are talking about, I didn’t get a detention-” You start, before Professor Sharp cuts you off.
“You do now.” He retorts, holding his classroom door open for you before entering himself. You shuffle into the room, moving to take your now usual seat at the side of his desk.
While you typically wouldn’t mind spending your free time in the potions classroom, often brewing potions with Professor Sharp or just sitting at your now permanently conjured chair to do homework while he marks tests, something about being here for detention sours the space for you.
Professor Sharp moves to sit in his own chair before rifling through his desk for something. You awkwardly sit, waiting for another opportunity to refute the detention that you are now stuck in. Professor Sharp presents a scroll of parchment to you, the thickly rolled paper untouched as he also slides over a quill.
“Sir, what did I-” You begin to ask before Professor Sharp holds up his hand to stop you.
“You will be writing one hundred lines.” Professor Sharp instructs, his voice slightly tense as his face displays clear disappointment, but for what you don’t know. You hold back a sigh, knowing that now both of your favorite professors are disappointed in you.
“Alright. What is it I am to write, Professor?” You dejectedly ask. It seems that this really is a detention, though for what you are unsure. Either way, you might as well get it over with so you can hopefully catch up to Professor Fig.
“I will not follow strange men off campus, for I have a sense of self-preservation.” He curtly replies.
You don’t even try to hide the shock on your face from the prompt. A sudden defensive streak makes its way into you, feeling the need to defend Professor Fig from the label of ‘strange man’.
“Sir! I hardly think-”
“Two hundred.”
“I-”
“Three hundred. Would you like to go for four?” Professor Sharp challenges, his face once again smug as he raises an eyebrow in your direction.
You press your lips together in a firm line, brows furrowing in irritation as you indignantly look at the man. After a beat of silence you let out a harsh sigh, reaching for the quill and dipping it in ink.
The scratching of your writing fills the room, Professor Sharp sitting and watching as you write for around ten lines before turning to the papers on his desk. He begins working with his own quill, most likely marking papers from class.
The silence is tense, only being filled by the scratching of quills and the soft sound of chatter from students walking by the classroom, no doubt on their way to Hogsmeade or the library to enjoy their Saturday.
How you are even meant to write three hundred lines you don’t know, as your hand is already cramping and you have barely made it past fifty. You let out another sigh, well aware that you are not going to be catching up to Professor Fig as he will most likely be too far gone by the time you finish this bogus assignment.
Time moves at a snail's pace, the mind numbing and slightly insulting work dragging on. You were around halfway done now, taking a break occasionally to let your hand rest before continuing. There isn’t a clock in the room, but you can tell that noon is quickly approaching. You take a moment to mourn the lost time before turning to focus on the professor next to you.
Professor Sharp is through marking papers and has moved on to reading as you continue your punishment. He looks at you expectantly, his eyes focusing on you without even turning his head away from his book. You decide to return to the task at hand, double-checking your count before working towards your next arbitrary milestone.
Once you get to line two hundred you take another break, raising your arms above your head to stretch. You can’t hear the sounds of students walking through the hall, so you assume it is close enough to noon that lunch is being served.
“What line are you on?” Professor Sharp asks, glancing over from his reading as your action draws his attention.
“I just wrote line two hundred.” You reply, still upset about the punishment but not looking to display any attitude to earn another set of lines.
“I think that has been enough time for this message to sink in, a prompt change is in order.” He comments. You briefly worry that he will make you start over, but he continues speaking. “Don’t worry, just the one hundred remaining lines will suffice.”
“Very well. What is the prompt this time?” You ask, ready to be through this painful experience. Hopefully the next prompt is a shorter one as at this point, you would fight a pensieve guardian if it meant you were through with lines.
“Foolishness leads to an untimely demise.” He responds, not even holding in his chuckle as you roll your eyes.
“If you wanted me to agree with your interpretation of the fable, all you needed to do was ask.” You snark, Professor Sharp raising an eyebrow before gesturing for you to finish your lines.
Even if you felt the prompt change was more about Professor Sharp proving a point than you learning anything, you quickly move to complete the task. The new prompt was less than half the length of the original, so it would be far easier to finish now.
Professor Sharp had finished reading and was organizing his shelves when you finally finished the last one hundred lines. You clear your throat, getting the attention of the man as you put your quill down for the last time.
“I finished, Professor.” You inform him. Professor Sharp stills for a moment, but continues his organizing, not even turning to look at you.
“Do you understand why we did this today?” He questions, still focused on the task at hand. You roll the parchment up, placing it in front of his seat but not moving to stand.
“Is it because you decided to live up to your glowing reputation?” You quip, seeing Professor Sharp’s shoulders tense slightly.
At first you think you rolled the parchment up too soon, having just earned yourself another one hundred lines, but when Professor Sharp turns to once again sit next to you he doesn’t look at all phased by the comment.
“What a remarkably unimaginative guess.” He dryly replies, lacing his fingers together and resting them on the desk. “Why don’t you try again?”
Rather than say something else that will result in another, this time well earned, detention, you decide to sit and really think about the question. The silence stretches on, and to his credit, Professor Sharp is content to let you mull over your answer for as long as you need.
“It’s clear that you don’t want me to go off school grounds with Professor Fig, most likely because you distrust him.” You finally answer.
“I don’t distrust Professor Fig. He has proven himself to be a wise wizard, clearly deserving of his title of Professor after his many years at Hogwarts” He sighs, looking away from you for a moment, choosing his next words carefully before once again turning to address you.
“I distrust his intentions and guidance.”
Now you are more confused than anything. His intentions? His guidance? Clearly this is in reference to Professor Sharp’s suspicions, but you aren’t sure how to proceed from here.
“What I don’t understand is how he is either leading you into danger, or wholly unconcerned with whatever danger you have found yourself in on your own. Somehow he has become a trusted person in your eyes, and I think he is exploiting this for some sort of gain on his end.” Professor Sharp explains, not even hiding his distaste for the man as he shoots the accusation out.
“Sir, I don’t think that’s entirely fair.” You retort, shrinking under his gaze as he glares at you, unimpressed by your statement.
“By all means, explain what it is I don’t understand and I will happily reassess the man.” He counters, gesturing for you to go on.
You clam up, knowing that he has you backed into a corner, and while you would love nothing more than to defend Professor Fig, you know there is no way to do so and keep your activities secret.
After a moment of silence, it's clear you have nothing to add to the conversation. Professor Sharp runs a hand through his hair in frustration, knowing once again you are both at a stalemate when it comes to Professor Fig.
“The purpose of this detention was to remind you of what should be common sense. You have already proven to lack a sense of self-preservation, and I would hate for it to lead to an untimely demise.” Professor Sharp gravely states.
He is well aware that you have a deeper understanding than most when it comes to death, and while he hates to use it against you, it seems he has found it necessary to get his point across.
You nod slowly at his statement, understanding his lesson despite disagreeing with his path of logic before it. He seems to take your response positively, a small smirk growing on his face as he continues.
“You are partially correct, however. This was a great way to stall so there was no way you could accompany Fig on whatever trip he had planned. Not to mention the expression on his face when I told him to speak with Professor Weasley was priceless.” He adds, a light chuckle escaping him as you groan in response.
“I can’t believe I got detention because you wanted to torment Professor Fig.” You sigh, glad that now the serious talk is over, you can move on with your day.
“I do have a glowing reputation to uphold.” He teases, a light laugh forcing its way out of you as he throws back your statement from earlier.
“Consider this morning another additional assignment rather than detention. Now, go to the Three Broomsticks and meet your friends or something. Do whatever it is you students normally do on Saturdays instead of following an old man’s orders senselessly.” Professor Sharp snarks, waving his hand dismissively as he puts away the papers on his desk, your scroll of lines included. You stand to leave, opening the door before turning back to the potions professor.
“If I’m not supposed to listen to an ‘old man’s orders’, wouldn’t that include you?” You quip, Professor Sharp freezing as he slowly looks up at you.
“Did you just volunteer for another hundred lines? ‘I will think before I speak’ sounds like a reasonable prompt.” He dangerously states. You straighten up and aggressively shake your head at the question.
“Three Broomsticks. Friends. Butterbeer. I’m going now. I- Sorry!” You stutter, quickly turning to leave, not even shutting the door behind you.
You think you can hear Professor Sharp let out another chuckle, but you are too busy getting as far away as possible before he can change his mind.
Note to self, do NOT call Professor Sharp old.