Chapter Text
The dust hadn’t even settled before she was shoved in front of the Daily Prophet for photos, Professor Black’s face smug as he paraded her around to boost his own status in the Ministry. Bruises adorning her face, her bones barely healed, disoriented from the trauma of battle, and her arm still in a sling as Madam Blainey’s potions still coursing through her veins. “Heroine of Hogwarts” plastered everywhere, her eyes in the Daily Prophet’s photos are haunted. They followed her around every corner just like the whispers of her fellow classmates followed her in every corridor of
Maeve Ogilvy sat in the map chamber, one of the only places people don’t stare at her. She glared at the empty frames, rage simmering under her skin. She had done everything right. She completed the trials, kept the secret from everyone, she resealed the repository like they told her to, and still, she sits in an empty room. Despite the prying nature of both Professor Weasley and Professor Sharp, who questioned the amount of time her and Professor Fig spent off campus, or her returning from her “sanctioned” trips littered with injuries that wiggenweld potions couldn’t fix, Professor Fig covering for her when she was missing for an extended period. She lied to Professor Weasley, Professor Sharp, even Professor Hecat, like Professor Fig told her to do. Like the Keepers told her to do. Deception coming second nature due to the fear of exposing those she cared about to the dangers that knowing her caused, not willing to risk them coming close to Ranrok.
Lodgok died because of her, at the hands of his own brother, in a desperate attempt to give her Bragbor’s journal. George Osric, frightened, and encompassed by the dragon’s mouth, his only involvement being the carrier of a portkey, its power was unknown until she came along. His last moments before he was eaten were spent terrified, white knuckling the side of the carriage torn in half mid-flight; George releasing blood curdling screams as he was crushed like the spiders Maeve herself has snuffed out under her own feet. In a blink he was gone, silenced in an instant, but his last moments will haunt Maeve for a lifetime. And Professor Fig. Her mentor that had taught her everything. Her guiding light in the vast unknown that was the wizarding world, he taught her how to protect herself from the Dark Wizards that hunted her for her powers. “Hone your magic”, words uttered many times at her, but his faith in her was unwavering. Her skills and ability to learn magic were unmatched according to Professor Fig. His last words bounced in her head until it drove her to the brink. “The wizarding world could not be in more capable hands.”
Maeve, standing in the same room that had brought Professor Fig so much joy and fascination, his last connection with his deceased wife, Miriam, she felt anything but capable. The room held a deeper meaning to both before the attack, representing hope and strength, power and unity, but now all Maeve could do was scream. They abandoned her. Utterly alone, like a rudderless ship in the storm of her ability to hone ancient magic. Barren portraits mocking her, she did everything right, everything they asked of her, and it still wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough. So, she screamed, cried, begged, threw every curse she knew at the walls of the map chamber. Nobody could hear her down here, she knew that. Safe to release the gut-wrenching sounds that were escaping from her.
Capable. That’s how everyone viewed her. Poppy, Natty, Sebastain, even Ominis eventually. All the favours and extra curriculars, as the group had so lovingly dubbed their adventures. They came to her because she was capable. Look where it got those closest to her. Six feet under, a rotten eulogy done by an incompetent Headmaster. Natty, taking an unforgivable for her. How Professor Onai will ever forgive her is beyond Maeve. And Sebastain. Misguided, determined, desperate to help Anne. She joined Sebastian on a dark route, the overwhelming need to help him, to help Anne. The sweet girl was destined for more before her life was altered forever. Not just because of the death, the murder, of Solomon Sallow at the hands of her own twin, but because of the curse that was laid on the kind Slytherin. For what reason? Power? Victor Rookwood craved the power that manifested in her. A seemingly Muggle orphan, living in squalor until just before her 15th birthday where Professor Fig appeared and changed her forever. All the good in her? The credit goes to Professor Fig. His repayment? He’s dead because of her. Sacrificed for the likes of Maeve freaking Ogilvy, the name that rippled through the wizarding world in awe, but only causes a dull ache in the cavernous void that was her chest.
Maeve fixed her gaze back on the deserted portraits, her blue eyes narrowing. They killed Professor Fig. Ancient Magic killed Professor Fig. The power that set Maeve apart, the power that impressed the professors that fought beside her during the battle against Ranrok. Maeve can’t help but to think that the magic should have disappeared with the rest of the keepers. She scoffed at the bitter thought as she exited the map chamber into the dungeons, her heart thudding in her chest, almost creating an echo in her chest, emphasizing the hollowness that she has felt since being released from the hospital wing.
Maeve meanders the hallways of the Dungeons, taking the scenic route to the Slytherin common room hoping to return to her bed long after everyone has gone to bed. She has been dodging her friends for the last few weeks, using the upcoming O.W.Ls as an excuse. Her go-to sanctuary had been corrupted after the professors were let in on all the extracurriculars she had been participating in outside the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t feel like hers anymore despite her efforts over the school year to decorate the room. Professor Weasley began making it a habit to either check in the room herself, or have Deek keep detailed tabs on Maeve for her. It was driving her nuts, the constant supervision, so much so that she only stops in briefly to tend to her beasts. Maeve had just passed the potions classroom, the door ajar and a bubbling could be heard inside, when her name was called from close to the doorway of the classroom. Maeve quickened her pace in hopes to disappear before Professor Sharp could emerge from his classroom and trap her into a conversation.
“Miss Ogilvy, I know you heard me.” Professor Sharp appeared from the classroom, the door creaking on its hinges as it opened wider. He narrowed his eyes at her back, his harsh tone freezing her in her place as he scrutinized Maeve’s appearance. She’s sure that she is a disheveled mess after her breakdown in the map chamber. Her eyes felt heavy and sore from crying, she hasn’t slept for more than a couple of hours every night since leaving the hospital wing leaving deep bags under her eyes, and she can’t remember the last time she had a proper meal. Her appetite alluding her, replaced by the dull empty feeling that radiated through her chest with each unforgiving beat of her heart.
“Good evening, Professor I would love to stay and chat, but curfew is fast approaching, and I would hate to lose Slytherin house points. We’re neck and neck with Hufflepuff, I think we have a good shot of winning.” Maeve plastered a timid smile on her face as she spun around to face the professor, hoping to placate the sour look that was gracing Professor Sharp’s by appealing to her head of house’s sense of Slytherin pride. Professor Sharp’s expression doesn’t budge except for a slight raise to one of his eyebrows to Maeve’s immense disappointment.
“Miss Ogilvy if you wish to deceive a former Auror, I suggest you use a lie that doesn’t contradict every previous action you have done this semester. All the professors know that you don’t care about curfew at this point.” Professor Sharp deadpanned. Maeve’s pale skin flushed a deep pink at Professor Sharp’s pointed tone. She casted her gaze downward, unable to meet the much taller man’s gaze. She could feel his eyes boring into her lithe frame. Her shoulder length dark auburn hair fell in her face, partially obscuring her. Ranrok’s dragon form singed her previously long hair during the final battle. It was unsalvageable much to her dismay, forcing her to crop it short. Unable to fully hide in her hair anymore, she instead focused her gaze on her shoes, kicking tiny loose pebbles that laid at her feet on the dungeon’s stone floor.
“I didn’t see you at dinner today, and I asked your usual group of… miscreants… as to your whereabouts, but curiously they didn’t know where you were either. Said they haven’t really talked to you since you’ve been released from the Hospital Wing despite their efforts to track you down.” Professor Sharp’s voice was his usual stern tone, but as Maeve looked up to meet his eyes, she noticed there was a hint of worry behind her potion professor’s eyes. She picked nervously at her fingernails, not knowing where to go with the conversation. Sharp’s dark eyes still studying her the same way the rest of the Hogwarts staff who fought with her have been since she was released from the hospital, concern laced with an underlying of what seemed like pity to Maeve much to her distaste. Professor Sharp almost gave off a nervous energy the longer the silence between them lasted, the unspoken question floated between her and Professor Sharp, a question Maeve did not want to answer. Where have you been, and why have I scarcely seen you in the Great Hall for meals to begin with?
Professor Sharp cleared his throat, preparing to speak again when Maeve cut him off. “I’m sorry professor, I got carried away studying for my O.W.Ls that are coming up and completely missed dinner. I do have four years to catch up on after all.” Maeve emphasized the learning gap between her and the other fifth years in hopes to be released from the conversation, baiting the professor to believe the easy lie instead of forcing her to admit that her O.W.Ls are the last thing on her mind, having not spent a second on them opting to continue her extracurriculars alone and far away from the castle. After all, poachers and the Ashwinders are still running amok in the hamlets and Forbidden Forest, even with Maeve and Poppy’s previous efforts to take down the poaching rings and Rookwood dead.
“Oh? Where were you studying?” Sharp keenly asked, his face annoyingly unreadable. Maeve peered at him suspiciously.
“In the library, sir.” She responded innocently after a small pause, fixing her expression into a doe-eyed look in hopes to look genuine. Sharp stared at her, his irritation clear in his eyes.
“The library? Interesting, I looked for you there when I didn’t see you at dinner for the fourth night in a row, after your group told me that you have been telling them that you’re busy studying for the upcoming exams. I couldn’t find you anywhere. So, do you want to try that answer again?” Professor Sharp finished his sentence with a growl, clearly exasperated with the lie.
“It’s true sir, I just found a little hidden room, it’s behind—” Maeve began, still trying to hold onto the lie before Professor Sharp interrupted her.
“The room behind the fireplace in the library? I checked there as well as I know how good you have been at hiding this semester. Shockingly, professors actually know more than students would think about hidden spots in the castle. You all seem to forget that almost every professor who teaches you also went to Hogwarts,” Sharp’s tone was clipped with anger, losing patience with the young Slytherin. “Why don’t we finish this in my office, Miss Ogilvy, and we can have a proper chat about what you have been doing, or what you clearly haven’t been doing.” He finished while taking in the tired and rundown appearance of the student before him with a tight expression on his face.
Maeve looked around the hall hoping that another student or professor would appear to save her from this conversation before turning back to the professor, meeting his gaze realizing she would have to have this conversation despite her best efforts. Maeve hung her head and nodded, waiting for Professor Sharp to lead the way into his office. She slowly made her way into the potions classroom, Professor Sharp closing the door to the classroom behind him and began to guide her into his office just to the left of the entrance of the classroom. Professor Sharp is quick to conjure a comfortable looking chair for Maeve to sit in, gesturing for her to take a seat as he makes his way around to sit at his usual spot behind his desk, across from her. He regards her for a second before he flicks his wand and summons an unfamiliar house elf.
“Pippy, would you please fetch us some leftovers from dinner? I fear this student was entangled in previous engagements and was unable to attend dinner. And maybe some tea if you could please?” Professor Sharp addressed the house elf, Pippy, politely. Pippy looked over at Maeve with a beaming smile, her large green eyes appeared excited at the prospect of helping.
“Yes, sir! Pippy will be right back indeed!” Pippy replied in a cheery sing-song tune before apparating to the kitchen, Maeve assumed at least. With Pippy gone Professor Sharp turned to look at Maeve. Feeling the impending lecture, Maeve opened her mouth to protest the necessity of bothering a house elf, but before she could get a word out, Sharp lifted his hand to stop her protests. He looked tired as he addressed her.
“We can have this conversation after I see you eat with my own eyes.” He said with an air of exhaustion to his tone. Maeve sunk deeper into her seat at the tone from the professor, regretting taking the scenic route to her dorm. She should have just stayed in the Map Chamber; the sour thought has crossed her mind multiple times during her conversation with Sharp. Before anything else could be said, Pippy was back with a large tray overflowing with food. Maeve’s eyes widened at the sheer amount of food on the tray that was placed in front of her. Multiple types of pasties, pies and biscuits sat before her. Along with potatoes, roasted vegetables, and multiple types of meat. Maeve looked up to meet Professor Sharp’s eyes that were filled with mirth over the volume of food before her. Maeve turned to Pippy, who was still beaming at Maeve incredibly happy to be of service. With a snap of her fingers two teacups and a teapot appeared, pouring both Maeve and Professor Sharp cups of steaming tea.
“Thank you Pippy, this is perfect. You're dismissed.” Professor Sharp said to the house elf, clearly trying not to laugh. Pippy turned towards him, her large smile still on her face, and curtsied before she apparated away. Maeve looked at her professor with a small bit of resentment stemming from the humour he has found in her current predicament.
“Sir, you cannot expect me to finish this much food. I don’t think I have ever had this much food on my plate in my entire life. Any higher, and I wouldn’t be able to even see you over the pile!” Maeve grumbled at the clearly amused man. Professor Sharp just smirked at Maeve and gestured for her to begin eating. She huffed and picked up a meat pie from the stack in front of her and took a bite. The food tasted like ash in her mouth, she paled with nausea at the first bite, chewing slowly before forcing the first bite down. Washing the taste away with small sips of tea. All while Professor Sharp regarded her with a furrowed brow and a tight lip, clearly not pleased with her despite Maeve eating as he had requested. The second bite of the meat pie went down smoother than the first, and Maeve gathered her courage to address the potions professor.
“Sir, what is it that you would like to speak to me about? It's getting late, and I'm rather tired. I would like to head to bed soon if that is quite alright with you.” Maeve inquired after she had finished the first meat pie, grabbing a biscuit to pick at while they had this conversation. Her stomach fluttering nervously as she finally meets Professor Sharp’s eyes. His demeanour had shifted into a softer one as he watched her pick at the biscuit.
“I've noticed that you’ve been pulling away from everyone since being released from the Hospital Wing.” Professor Sharp started, almost hesitantly. “You're scarcely at dinners, and you seem… lost while walking the halls. I simply wanted to check in on your well-being. I know things have been rough for you with Professor Fig’s passing—” The mention of Professor Fig causes Maeve to sink further into her seat, scoffing at Professor Sharp effectively cutting him off.
“All due respect sir, I'm fine. I've just been busy catching up after my prolonged stint in the hospital. I need time and space to properly prepare for my exams. I don’t appreciate the speculation everyone has on my health.” Maeve turned her scathing gaze to the professor, her biting tone not lost on the older wizard. “My ‘well-being’ hasn't been a concern to anyone for my entire career at Hogwarts, I don't believe that now is the time to begin to care about it.” She continued; her tone harsh as she released her unbridled anger over the situation at the professor. “If that's all you wanted to speak to me about, may I please be excused. I’m sure you remember that I have your class tomorrow morning that I would like to be well rested for.” She finished her tirade, standing up from the conjured chair moving to leave the office.
“Sit back down, Maeve.” Sharp’s soft voice and the use of her first name making her pause before she sank back down into the chair, turning her gaze downwards to pick at her nails. Sharp takes a breath before he continues “I apologize that your well-being during the school year had declined and went unnoticed or ignored by many of the staff here, but that doesn't mean that it suddenly isn’t important. Some of the professors and I have discussed the rapid and sudden decline in your appearance these last few weeks. There have been some concerns over your whereabouts, as you seem to be missing most of the hours outside of class.” Sharp’s tone was gentle, a tone Maeve has not heard from him often. Not since addressing her when she first awoke in the hospital after the battle, gently breaking the news that Professor Fig did indeed pass during the final standoff against Ranrok and that it wasn’t a nightmare she had. “The other professors are,” He paused before restarting his sentence, “I am worried for you and wanted to offer any assistance you may need.” He finished, folding his hands together on the desk. Expression open and honest, almost hopeful as he looked at Maeve. She continued to fiddle with her nails, unsure what to say to the usually closed off and blunt professor. She pressed her lips together before carefully responding.
“I understand the concern from you and the other professors, but there's nothing to be worried about. As I've said multiple times tonight, I have been studying for the exams that are coming up. I’m bad at keeping track of time, as you have all noticed my regular ignorance of the curfew this semester. I’ll do better to not lose track of time as I've been the last few nights.” Maeve said, her voice wavering slightly hoping that the answer was enough to please the potion master. She wasn’t interested in bringing Professor Sharp into her self-destruction, not after what happened to Professor Fig. She couldn’t be responsible for another death. She hears the professor let out a soft sigh.
“Where were you tonight, Miss Ogilvy? As we established, you were not in the library.” Sharp inquired once again, not willing to let her off the hook for the missing time, but this time he kept his tone soft. No edge or annoyance found while he spoke to Maeve. She paused, not willing to say she was in the Map Chamber. The chamber was known to Sharp, she knew that, but she wasn’t about to admit her regular visits to the now empty room where everything started and ended.
“I was in the Dungeons, sir.” Maeve stated bluntly, unwilling to elaborate. In her defence, she was telling the truth. Professor Sharp looked at her curiously and hummed in response, as if willing her to continue her story. After a beat, it was clear to him that Maeve would not be giving more detail without being prompted.
“And where in the Dungeons would that be, Maeve? I regularly walk down here and didn't spot you anywhere this evening.” Sharp raised an eyebrow at her, refraining from allowing anger to seep into his tone, attempting to keep the conversation friendly instead of an interrogation. As Matilda once said, “it’s like trying to get a sonnet out of a Streeler, getting information from that child!” exasperated over inability to glean information from either Fig or Miss Ogilvy about their activities outside of the castle. She wasn’t wrong, even the former Auror was getting rather frustrated over the tight-lipped student.
“Well, you see there are these frog statues all over the castle.” Maeve started weaving her story about her whereabouts. “There're some in the dungeons that are locked behind the cages near the Map Chamber, but I may or may not have taught myself Alohomora so I could access hidden parts of the castle?” She admitted with a wince, but continued her story before Sharp could interrupt, hoping if she admitted some wrongdoing he wouldn’t pry. “Anyway, I found if you enter the frog statues, they almost burp you out of another frog statue. I found a little alcove overlooking part of the Dungeons that’s secluded and nobody seems to know about. So, I have been spending time hidden so I could work unbothered.” Maeve finished her story, hoping it was enough to get Sharp to leave her alone. When she looked up at the professor, he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he collected his thoughts. When he finally met her gaze, Maeve could see the exhaustion behind his eyes, whether it be from what she told him, or from other circumstances, she couldn’t tell.
“I want you in my classroom after your classes for the next week. Bring your homework and study materials, you can use my classroom as your place to study, but I want to see you here. After class. Until dinner. Is that understood?” Sharp clearly unimpressed, but seemingly bought her story. Maeve nodded at the professor. “And I want you to show me your little ‘alcove’ you found through the frog statues.” He continued. His expression smug as Maeve paled at the thought of showing him one of her hiding spots.
“Yes sir.” She responded simply, a little put out at losing an actual hiding spot of hers. At her reply, Professor Sharp stood from his desk and walked over to his storage cabinet, pulling out a dark purple potion. He turned back to her and beckoned Maeve to stand as he walked towards the door. Maeve complied, relieved to be out of the conversation for the time being.
“I’ll walk you to the common room.” Sharp continued to usher her out of the potions classroom and into the hallway, steering her towards the Slytherin common room. “It is past curfew, and we wouldn’t want you to lose us any more house points by walking without an escort, after all we are neck and neck with Hufflepuff.” Sharp chuckled at her, using her previous attempt to escape against her. Maeve grumbled under her breath over the comment. Professor Sharp continued to smirk at her reaction. Soon they reached the common room, the door unveiling with a rattle as the snake tail lifted from the floor to uncover the entrance. Sharp laid a hand on her thin shoulder before she could escape, no doubt feeling how bony it was under her robes. His gaze still held worry as he peered at her, handing her the dark purple he had gotten before leaving his classroom.
“Here, it’s a Sleeping Draught. It will help you sleep for longer than you clearly have been. Take it when you have gotten into bed otherwise you’ll be spending the night in the hospital wing for a concussion. Goodnight, Miss Ogilvy. I'll see you tomorrow for my class, and I expect to see you tomorrow night after classes have finished.” Professor Sharp finished with a nod before gesturing for Maeve to enter the common room.
“Goodnight sir, I'll see you tomorrow.” Maeve’s face turned slightly pink at his concern. She turned quickly to enter the common room, rushing to get ready for bed. As she laid down in her bed, she looked at the potion Professor Sharp handed her, debating whether she should take it. In the end she decided it was better to appease him and downed the potion. Placing the vial on top of her potions book so she could remember to return the vial to him tomorrow, she was asleep almost instantly, no time to worry about the conversation that she had just had with the professor.