Good vs. Evil

Chapter 41

He was so small, so scared. His eyes were filled with tears threatening to spill.

I put a hand lightly on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. I inhaled sharply as he let go of his hand. It was stained red while the other dripped blood. I took his hand softly, reading the words on the back.

Children do not speak out of turn.

"It's alright," I whispered, "I've got one too."

I wiped his tears away, straitening his cap and robes.

"We're going to get you to Madame Pomfrey's and she's going to fix you up. You'll be alright." I smiled softly at him.

He shook his head in a panic.

"What? What is it?" My eyebrows knit together.

"She told me not to tell anyone." He whispered.

My blood was boiling. "It's ok. We have to get you the right potion. We don't want it to scar too badly."

"No," He said, "Naughty children must be punished."

I bent down so that I was at eye level with him, "That is not true. You did nothing wrong and you don't deserve this, no one deserves this. This is not your doing."

He looked behind me, his eyes widening. I looked behind me to see the nightmare herself.

"I'd beg to differ." She said as I stood up.

I leaned back, whispering to the boy, "I'll meet you in the infirmary."

He nodded, rushing off.

"Professor, you must stop this," I said, turning my attention back to her. "It's cruel."

"The Minister requests that I discipline children as I see necessary. Are you suggesting that I go against the Minister's wishes?"

"I think that your punishments are unnecessary."

"Are you questioning my judgment?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"That's deten..." I cut her off.

"You are nothing but an unjust cruel woman." If I'm already going to be punished, might as well say what I need to. "You have hate for people who are different from you just because you fear they are more intelligent than you. You are but a childish woman with too much power and you ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"Enough!" She shrieked, "I will not have you talk to me in such away. What a horrid thing to say to someone, especially someone who has given you as many chances as I have. Your mother-"

"My mother is dead." I stared into her eyes, which were lit with anger.

"Lucky her." She scoffed.

My hand flew to my wand, "What did you just say to me?"

"Allia Rosier valued intelligence. Imagine how hard it would be to raise a child like you."